flip wallet

The Return (Part 2)

Originally posted by theexpendablegirl

A/N: A part 2 because…Jeff. That’s it. Just because of Jeff. :D

Past Part: The Return

Pairing: Jeff Hardy X F!Reader

Summary: Your struggling to believe he’s here to stay and won’t hurt you again. Jeff just wants to make things right.

Warnings: Swearing? NSFWish?

Word Count: 1800+


You walked through the curtain, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You defended your title successfully. People patted your back as you walked past them. “Great match.” You looked up and see Jeff standing with his back against you locker room door.

“Yeah. Thanks.” You muttered, tucking your hair behind your ear. Jeff pushed off the door and stepped to the side, letting you open the door.

He followed you in, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Are you ever gonna let me make this right? You haven’t spoken three words to me since our talk.”

You dug through your bag, trying not to look at him. Jeff took a seat on the couch, his arms laying along the top. “I’m not looking to date anyone right now.”

He grunted. “I’m not anyone.” You stopped for a moment. He was right. He wasn’t just anyone. “It doesn’t matter, Jeff.”

You pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. “It does matter. I never wanted to hurt you. I told you why I did it! I told you I still loved you, even after all these years. I could never get you out of my head. I tried. I really did. I was stuck on you.”

You looked at your boots. “I’m still stuck on you.” You whispered.


You walked out into the parking lot, pulling your suitcase behind you. “Hey! Y/N!” You looked over your shoulder and seen the Hardys making their way to you.

Matt was the first to come walking up beside you. “Can we catch a ride with you? Ours left early.” You bit the inside of your cheek. You really wanted to say no. You really did. You couldn’t say no to Matt, he never did anything to you

“Yeah, sure.” Matt helped load all the bags in the car while Jeff took the passenger seat. You slid into the driver’s side and Matt climbs in behind you.

You honked your horn at the fans lining the outside of the building, waving out the open window as the fans cheered.

You leaned your head against your hand, while the boys chattered back and forth about the show. Your mind was playing over everything after your breakup.


You wiped away your tears with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You placed framed photos and books into a box. Jeff was seated in the living room watching a football game.

The sound of the announcers told you he didn’t care that you were packing your things or that you couldn’t even stop yourself from hiccuping from your heavy crying.

You pulled your bag over your shoulder and picked up the box. Opening the door to the bedroom, your eyes flicked over to Jeff on the couch. He was now laying on it, ankles crossed, arms behind his head.

You look up, trying to will yourself from crying. “Bye, Jeff.”

He grunted and through his hand in the air, not saying two words to you.

What you didn’t know was tears were welling in his eyes, his hands were clenched as he tried not to go after you.


“Take exit 14!” You were jerked from your thoughts when the GPS sounded through the now quiet car. Jeff looked over at you, raising a brow. “Are you okay?”

You tightened your hand around the wheel. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Matt shifted in the backseat making you look through the mirror, he was sleeping.

“When did he fall asleep?” You asked, flicking your blinker on. Jeff shrugged. “Around twenty minutes ago.” You nodded your head.

“Are you hungry?” Jeff nodded his head quickly. “Starving.”

“Let’s seen, it’s 12:25. I highly doubt there are any restaurants open, but we can get fast food or stop at a gas station and pick something up there.”

Jeff reached around and hit Matt in the knee. “Huh? Are we at the hotel?” He asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “No. We want to get something to eat. Do you want fast food or gas station food?”

Matt slumped back into his seat. “I don’t really care. Whatever you guys want.”

You pulled your bags behind you, Matt and Jeff following. You got paired with the duo for the night. You scanned your keycard and opened the door, pulling your things in behind you. You held the door with your foot, letting them pass you into the room.

You let the door swing shut behind. The boys had quickly shoved pass one other and tossed their suitcases on what bed they wanted. Leaving you with the couch shoved against the wall.

wanted. Leaving you with the couch shoved against the wall.

You sighed and pulled your things to the far end of the room, tossing your bags on the couch and plopping down next to them.

Jeff began pulling the food from the bags as Matt rummaged through his suitcase. “Here. This is your order.” Jeff said, waving the bag of fast food in the air.

You pushed yourself from the couch and took the bag from Jeff. He then handed you your drink. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch you know? I wouldn’t mind you sleeping in my bed.”

“It’s fine. I’ve slept on worse things than a couch.” Jeff frowned. “I’m sure. But really I don’t mind. The bed is big enough to share.”

The night quickly progressed from there, everyone ate, showered and now was getting cozy in their respective spots. Everyone but you. The couch was like a rock. No give, no plush and it was long enough.

You sigh and looked over to the boys. Matt was just closing his eyes, spiraled across the whole bed. Jeff was laying in his bed, one arm tucked behind his pillow, the other laid across his stomach.

You sat up and pulled your blanket with you when you stood up. You shuffled over to Jeff’s bed and just looked at him. He smiled, patting the space next to him.

You crawled in and laid your head against his shoulder. He shifted, wrapping his arm around you. “Are you ever going to let me fix this?” Jeff whispered. You closed your eyes.

“I know you said you were here to stay, I just can’t shake the feeling that you’ll break my heart all over again.” Tears welded behind your closed lids.

Jeff ran his fingertips up your back, his lips ghosting across your forehead. “I’m not going to break your heart again.”

“Open your eyes and look at me.” You didn’t move. “Come on, Darlin’. Look at me.”

“Slowly you opened your eyes and looked at him. Jeff brought his hand up to your face and brushed his thumb under your eye. “No crying. No tears.”

Jeff tucked some loose hair behind your ear and then cupped your cheek. “I won’t do that. I won’t let you go ever again. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

You leaned forward and placed your lips against his in a needy kiss. You needed to feel his lips again. You needed to feel his hands roam your body, gripping your hips, brushing across your back, pulling at your hair, brushing down your legs. You needed to feel his beard brush across your neck, chest, and thighs, leaving marks in his wake…You needed him with every ounce of your being.


The loud snort from Matt forced you two to break away. “I forget he was in here!” Jeff whispered. You struggled to hold back laughed as you buried your face into his chest.

Jeff cupped the back of your head and buried his face into your hair, laughing quietly. The bed underneath your bodies shook from your laughter.


You use your key to enter the apartment that was once yours. Jeff would be at the gym, which would give you enough time to grab a few things you forgot and give back something to Jeff.

You removed the apartment and mail key, placing them on top of the photo you were giving back to him. It was his favorite photo of the two of you.

If you were being honest with yourself. You didn’t drive all the way over here to grab a few shirts you left, or return the keys. It was because of this photo.

His favorite photo. The one where you were asleep on his lap, your head resting against his shoulder while he played video games, a throw blanket draped around you. Matt took the photo after seeing just how stupid you both looked

Jeff never thought it was stupid. He loved that photo. He always wanted you to take it out of the frame so he could put it in his wallet. You never did. Not until now.


Lodged between Jeff’s cash in his wallet was that photo. You pushed the photo out just enough with your finger to see he folded himself out of it.

“Did you find it!?” Jeff yelled across the parking lot. You quickly pushed the photo back into place, flipped the wallet shut and slid from the car, shutting the door. You waved his wallet in the air, signaling that you did find it.

You would never have thought he would have a photo of you in his wallet. Still after all these years.

You didn’t know why it surprised you really. You still had a photo of Jeff in your wallet. Only it was far better tucked away.

You handed Jeff his wallet and smiled at him when he thanked you for going back to look for it.

“I…I have a photo of you in my wallet still.” You said, looking up at him. Jeff glanced at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I never could take that photo out. Every time I tried I felt like I was taking my heart from my chest.”

Jeff stopped then and opened his wallet, he looked at you from under his lashes before taking the photo of you from his. “I put this in my wallet after we broke up. At first, I told myself it was to remind me as to what I lost, but really it was because I needed to see your face.”

“Jeff, I love you. But I’m scared. I’m not going to lie. I’m scared that if we go down this path again and we don’t make it…It’ll destroy me.”

Jeff looked at you, his eyes glassing over. “I’m not going to hurt you like that again.”

You smiled sadly. “I know. That’s why I want to really, truly give us another chance. No beating around the bush. Me and you together again.”

Jeff smiled and pulled you into his body, he kissed your lips in a rough quick manner. “We tell each other everything. No matter what. No lying. No cheating. Nothing like that. If something has to be said, say it the way it has to be said.”

Jeff nodded his head. “I’m never letting you go. Like I said. You’re mine and I’m yours.”


Calming Kisses// Choi Youngjae (Gender Neutral)

Originally posted by yjarssunshine

Pairing: Youngjae x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: It was your first date with Youngjae.

Author’s Note: Hello! This came out of the blue, but I hope you enjoy it!

xoxo Sara


You held onto the leash tightly, watching as the small but fluffy white dog trotted in front of you, sniffing the grass every now and then. You averted your eyes to the side, watching your boyfriend as one hand slid into his pocket, while the other one stayed locked around yours.

You had been nervous to go on this date with Youngjae all day, your stomach doing flips as you laid out your clothes and fixed your hair. It was your first date with him, despite being together for what seemed like ages now, and being alone with him always made you nervous.

Or maybe it was just him who made you nervous.

Regardless, when he picked you up, Coco panting at his side you couldn’t help but feel all of your nerves wash away.

“I’m glad spring is here,” Youngjae sighed contently, watching as the wind blew leaves in every direction, “This is our first spring together.”

“Do you like spring?” You hummed, halting your walk midway so Coco will come back to your side.

“It’s probably my favorite season,” he swung your hands that were intertwined, “The weather is perfect, and flowers are beginning to bloom. I think it’s absolutely beautiful.”

You chuckled softly, thinking of the corny things he would most likely say if it weren’t for you two being in public.

‘it’s beautiful out, but not as beautiful as you.’

“Do you want to get some icecream?”

“You think it’s warm enough for ice cream?” you chuckled, tightening the leash around your wrist as youngjae looked at you, a gleam of excitement in his eye as he tugged you in the opposite direction of which Coco was sniffing.

“It’s never too cold for ice cream, (Y/N),” He smiled down at you. His smile made your heart sting and your mind become hazy, but you loved it. No matter how long you knew him, no matter how long you had been dating him, his smile always has the same affect on you.

“Can we have to cones please?” Youngjae asked as you two arrived at the small ice cream vendor, smiling down at you softly before going to grab his wallet.

“You don’t ha-“

“I’ll pay for both of them, (Y/N),” Youngjae said, flipping his wallet open and fishing a bill out, “I want to spoil you. You’ve never let me spoil you before.”

“Because i feel bad,” you pouted slightly, taking the cone from the man as Youngjae handed him the money, “You don’t have to pay for it.”

“But i want to,” Youngjae said, leaning into you slightly, “And, by the way, you look cute when you pout.”

You felt heat rush to your neck as you looked away, pressing the ice cream to your lips as Youngjae chuckled.

“Are you getting nervous around me, (Y/N)?” Youngjae teased, “We’re always together, why is today any different?”

You looked away, gripping his hand tightly, hoping he would get the hint. He looked around, realizing that; not only were you showing affection to each other, but you were the only two of the normal group out in public.

“This is the first time that we have ever gone out alone together,” you mumbled softly, “We’ve never been out alone together, let alone on a date.”

“You’re nervous because this is our first date?” He questioned, voice and smile both as soft as the wind that you felt against your skin. You nodded, beginning to bite the cone as Youngjae nodded.

“Don’t be nervous, okay? Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous?”

“Well, I don’t know.” You began to nip at the cone constantly, hoping that it would half the embarrassing conversation you were in the middle of with him.

“I have an idea,” Youngjae said softly, pulling you over to a bench in the park you two were currently in. You sat down, looking at him with questioning eyes.

“Are you nervous because of the PDA?” Youngjae asked, slipping his hand from yours as he sat down next to him. “What if I kissed you?”

“That would make it worse,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, “How would kissing me make it better?”

“When i kiss your cheek, it usually makes you feel better, or it makes you calm down, at least.”

“Because we’re in the privacy of your bedroom most of the time,” you sighed.

“Let me try, okay?” Youngjae said, pressing a hand to your cheek. Without any hesitation, he pressed his lips to yours, eyes fluttering shut as he kept a firm hold on you. Though you didn’t want to admit it, you felt your body becoming less tense at the feeling of his soft lips. Your eyes closed slowly, but opened not even a second later as Youngjae pulled away from you.

He smiled at you, leaning back in his seat as he let a chuckle fall past his lips.

“Told you so.”

Sweet, Sweet Victory

You’re a could’ve-been Olympic gymnastics champion now training someone else for the US team. He’s the current Women’s Head Coach who wants to take over her training. You two have a competition to decide who gets their way.

also known as

“Fuck You for It”


author: buckysbackpackbuckle

pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader

word count: 5186

author’s note: I threw a little bit of the movie Stick It in here too for plot reasons. I hope you don’t mind!

Keep reading

Dad Crocker: DO YOU WANT TO SEE A PICTURE OF MY CHILDREN?

Dad Crocker: *flips open wallet*

Dad Crocker: *proudly points to a seemingly endless chain of photos pouring out the wallet*

Camera: *pans down to follow the procession of pictures, displaying a few dozen kids, trolls and cherubs, a couple of leprechauns, hundreds of consorts, thousands of carapaces… all partaking in activities sorted by descending order of ‘quality time’ rating, like baking, mushroom farming, roughhousing…*

Dad Crocker: I LOVE THEM ALL EQUALLY.

9

(Dean’s is way longer because I already had it written before I decided to make this a preference. I don’t know why most of them are in grocery stores? Sorry about that. Also, I’d love to take any request you have here...)

DEAN:

“Dean!” you waved the candy bar around in his face, his expression dropped and he looked at you, half wondering if you were really being serious. “Please! I really want candy right now. Dean! Dean! Dean! Dean, please! I’ll love you forever.” 

“Well, in that case,” he snapped sarcastically. 

“Please, Dean!” you begged. 

“Alright, Y.N, God! Stop with the eyes!” 

“Haha! Yea!” you exclaimed, laughing as you put the candy bar on the counter, dropping a couple Reece’s cups for Dean. “Can we get coffee later, too?” 

“Sure, princess.” he rolled his eyes sarcastically. 

“Your sarcasm is excruciating.” You covered your heart and slipped a five dollar bill into his closed fist. 

“Keep it.” he handed the bill back to you. 

“You two are adorable.” the young girl behind the counter blushed, looking at you and Dean. 

“Us?” you asked, peeking out from behind Dean’s arm. The girl nodded. 

“Thanks.” Dean bobbed his head in the air, flipping through his wallet for a ten. 

“How long have you been married?” she asked, waving your items over the scanner. 

Dean looked over his shoulder at you, tucked behind him. “Five years.” he blurted. 

SAM:

“Sam!” you called quietly. “Sammy! Come on!” you sighed as you turned the corner and saw the tall man looking at a box of something. 

“What is this?” 

“I dunno. Hey, Dean said he’d rip us a pair of new ones if we didn’t get to the check out line right now.” I reported. “So we better- Are those chocolate covered strawberries?” you asked, walking slowly to Sam to look at the box he was holding. 

“Guess so. You want them?” 

“Uh, hell yes.” 

“Will you share?” 

“I bet if we both give dean the puppy dog eyes he’ll buy them for us.” you said, taking the box. 

“He can’t say no to you.” Sam stated. “Not with your eyes.” 

You heard snickering behind you and turned to see an old man hunched behind you. “Sorry.” he said hoarsely. “You two remind me of my wife and I when we were your age.” 

“Oh, we’re not-” you started but Sam smiled softly.

“Thank you.” he beamed. “Have a nice day.” 


CASTIEL:

“Ooo!” your sister squeaked. “Hello, baby sister!” you could smell the champagne on her breath when she slung her arm around your shoulder and placed a slobbery kiss on your cheek. 

“Hello.” 

“I am Castiel, angel of the Lord.” Cas intorduced himself. You groaned but luckily, your sister was too drunk to comprehend what he just said. 

She gasped. “Is this Cas? The Cas? The Cas you never shut about?” she laughed, waving her hand and spilling a little golden champagne on the floor. “Is he your boyfriend?” she tried whispering but it wasn’t working. 

“No.” you said. 

“I bet he is. You’re her boyfriend, huh?” 

“No!” 

“Come on. Cas, you’re her boyfriend.” She nodded at the angel. He nodded. “Look,” she pointed her glass at Cas. “He says you’re together.” 

“Is that how it works?” Cas asked. “I promise to watch over you, Y/N.” 

Batman has a secret weapon in his arsenal, one he only pulls out on the toughest and most dangerous of criminals. He comes across a particularly nasty little fish, one who’s killed and will kill again. He has information Batman needs, Jim Gordon looks away in sympathy and wanders away so he won’t have to witness this necessary cruelty.

Batman slinks close to the criminals who is now beginning to sense that he is about to see true terror. He shifts uncomfortably as the Batman removes the cloth over his mouth in anticipation of his confession. Sweat beads on the unsavory man’s head as the Batman reaches slowly into a pocket on his belt, all the way in the back. The criminal is certain he will not be walking away from this, at least not with all his wits about him. The dark gloved hand returns with a small, black object between his fingers, approximately the size of a wallet.

Actually, the criminal blinks, it is a wallet. The wallet flips open and there unfolds an obscene number of pictures of various costumed children, all smiling into the camera. The Batman smiles as he points to one picture in particular with a menacing grin on his face. The criminal blanches as he realizes that this is much worse than he had every imagined. He wished the vigilante would break his fingers, punch his face, something, anything but this.

“Would you like to hear about my children?”

Not 15 minutes later, a horrific scream cuts through the night and soon the man is spilling all of his secrets just in the hopes that the Dark Knight would cease in his torture. The caped man smiles and begins to wind up the dozens of photos he had been proudly showing off (though he must admit he is a bit disappointed. He was in the middle of describing the amazing way Dick could perform a quadruple summersault but that was for another time). The Commissioner comes back just as the wallet has returned to it’s safe haven and for that he was greatful. The last time he’d been subjected to that treatment he’d nearly dived off the top of GCPD to escape.

He drags the still screaming man away by the handcuffs, telling himself that it was a necessary evil, something they needed to do to get the tough ones to talk. Still, he thought as he glanced over his shoulder to see the vigilante gone, most likely to use the screaming man’s information and probably check up on a Robin or two.

The most fearsome event of Gotham city was not the arrival of the mysterious Batman, but the man’s growth into a powerful father of young children who he would tear apart to protect. Jim, for a moment, imagined the man skulking around the place he called home, reading the paper while wearing socks and sandals and his children running around gaily. The sheer horror of the thought nearly causes hardened veteran, Jim Gordon, to burst into tears.

Man Dissolved in Acidic Water After Trying to “Hot Pot” Soak in Yellowstone National Park Hot Pool

He and his sister were trying to “hot pot,” or soak in the water.

An Oregon man who died in a Yellowstone National Park hot spring and dissolved when he fell into the boiling, acidic water, was looking to soak in the water, park officials said in a report.

The report, which followed a Freedom of Information Act request from KULR, found that Colin Scott, 23, was looking for a place to “hot pot,” or soak in the streaming waters—a practice forbidden by the park—with his sister in June. He “was reaching down to check the temperature of a hot spring when he slipped and fell into the pool,” the report said, quoting his sister Sable Scott.

Search and rescue rangers who looked for Scott found his body in the pool, along with his wallet and flip flops, but their recovery efforts were thwarted by a lightning storm. The next day, they could not find any remains because of the acidic water quality.

“In a very short order, there was a significant amount of dissolving,” Deputy Chief Ranger Lorant Veress told KULR.

Forgotten

Sister Winchester - Forgotten

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Sister Reader, Dean Winchester x Sister Reader

Y/N = Your Name

Y/I = Your initials 

Word Count: 2453

Summary: You wake up in a field with no memory. After a while you have an episode of memories crashing into your head and find a picture of you with supposedly your two brothers. Afterwards you walk to the closest town and find a job as a waitress. Searching for your past life and you put posters around the town asking if anyone had recognised them. However as you were losing hope a bizarre series of events will lead you to finding some answers. 

A/N: Back to Sister fics again and a big thanks to ri-spn once again for her lovely editing and fact checking skills. Also if you every want a part two of any of these fics in order to get some closure please feel free and ask for it. I would love to share more of these stories with you x Love you long time xx


You peeled your eyes open and squinted at the glary grey cloud covered sky as you laid on your back in the soft grass. You couldn’t remember what exactly happened or how you got there. In fact, you couldn’t remember anything at all. You lolled around on the grass waiting for you to gather your energy and memories. You had a snippet of memories float into your mind of you driving away from a motel in a stolen car to Salem. Next there was a cloud of sparkling powder blown in your face and flashes of a deteriorating house, dried herbs and blood taken from your sick and exhausted form. Then just black for what felt like months.
Now you were waking up in small clearing surrounded by forest. You felt drowsy and sick. You went to call out for help but you had forgotten how to talk. You went to get up, but you forgot how to move your limbs. You had forgotten your name, your age, your parent’s names or if you had any other family. But slowly you started to remember some minimal memories and now you could move and stand, however you were like a toddler learning to walk again. It took a few tries but you got there. However, you still didn’t know how you had gotten to where you were or, better yet where to go next. You had the scare of your life when you found a gun and a switch blade in your back pocket. What kind of person am I? Am I in some sort of danger? You thought as you quickly dropped the dangerous weapons as overwhelming thoughts filled your mind. A lump in your jean’s pocket made you discover and pull out a wallet. Inside you found out what your name was, Y/N Winchester. Then you were confused when there were other ID cards behind the first one, stating other names and ages. Apparently, you were a wildlife ranger, a member of the FBI and a student at Harvard, (according to your library card). Behind a plastic window there was a small faded photo of you laughing next to two larger men leaning on a sleek black car. You flipped the photo over to see messy handwriting labelling the photo, “The Winchester Siblings: Sam, Y/N and Dean with ‘Baby’ at Bobby’s house, 2014” You felt dizzy and found yourself on the ground as memories crashed to the forefront of your mind:

Black leather seats of an old car.
State names on sign posts on vacant highways.
A toy army soldier stuck in a pocket of the car door.
The initials SW, DW and Y/I carved in jaggered lines.
Motel rooms, an old journal and faded photos.
Guns, knives and salt.
Black Smoke, hex bags and strong liquor.
Neon vacancy signs and weary bodies.
Tomb stones and cross roads.
The melody of your favourite lullaby.
A woman’s scream and a father’s shouts.
A house fire and hospital waiting rooms.
The piercing stares of Yellow, Green, Brown, Red, Black and Blue eyes.
An angel in a trench coat.
A squat king with an English accent
.
Metallica T-shirts and cassettes tapes.
Plaid shirts and pentagram tattoos.

You woke up gasping for air as the episode of memories finished. You were feeling so confused and hopeless. You had so many questions and yet no one to answer them, what had happened? Where were you? Where was your family? Who were you? You felt lost and sad. With creaking joints, you grabbed the gun and blade thinking they might come in handy whilst you pushed up off the ground. You began to wonder through the forest until you came to a set of train tracks and followed them until you came to a small town. 

You sheepishly walked into an old diner, checking your new surroundings as a bell at the door jingled making you jump. “You okay darling, you look lost”, an older waitress looked at you worriedly and poured you some coffee inviting you to take a seat, “I think I am” you admitted. You flipped open your wallet and pulled out the photo of you with the two boys before passing it to her, “Do you recognise these men? … I think I am supposed to know them, but I just can’t seem to remember who they are.” The woman sadly shook her head and handed the photo back, “Don’t worry you’ll remember them sooner or later or they will find you hun.” She smiled “But for the meantime do you have a place to stay? It looks like you have been roughing it for a while” she sympathised. You shook your head whilst taking a sip of the bitter beverage. She pulled out her own wallet and handed you some green notes, “Take this and go get yourself a room down at the motel down the end of the main street. Then come back here tomorrow morning and I’ll get you some breakfast”. You took the money gratefully before walking out the diner down the main street and to the motel. The next day you returned and met the woman again as she served you pancakes for breakfast. As you ate she offered you a temporary job as a waitress until you found your feet. You took the job and hadn’t looked back since. You turned out to be a fantastic waitress and people would return purely to be served by your warm and friendly nature. You had boys that hung around, too shy to ask you on a date. You had people who would only be served by you. Patrons who you knew their usual orders off by heart and others who would only have you to make their coffees because you knew how to make it just right.

You felt like the town had adopted you whilst you looked for your real family. There was always someone having you over for tea and checking up on you. When you weren’t working, you were at the library researching into finding your family. You put up posters around town asking if anyone recognised the men in the photo that lived in your wallet. However as warmer months went by they faded the posters then the winter rain and snow and snow rolled in and made some of the poster’s ink run. However, you were never contacted from anyone who recognised your supposed brothers. It wasn’t too bad you thought. Why should you be upset over people you don’t even remember?, but there always seemed something missing in your apple pie life and you couldn’t put your finger on it. Like a hole right in the middle of your chest but you didn’t know how to fill it.

It had been 8 months since you had put up the posters and now you felt defeated as you finished pulling them down. You were walking back to the diner with your head down as you observed the pavement, clutching the posters tight across your chest. Until you walked straight into the back of someone. You fell over and the posters in your hands dropped, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to have you fall …are you okay?” a mechanical voice asked in a concerned tone. You kept your eyes down as you gathered the posters around you, “Oh no please don’t worry it was my fault, I should have been watching where I was going…my mind was somewhere else…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “Sorry again” you sincerely apologised as you stood up and continued your walk to the diner. But as you got up and looked into the man’s face it was like you were meeting someone from a reoccurring dream… Blue eyes. An angel in a trench coat, floated across your mind like that day in the clearing. You shook your head, there’s no such things as angels you thought as you kept walking.

The man turned around and watched you walk off, his mouth was gaping open. He was pale as if he had seen a ghost, “You alright Cas?” a gruff voice came behind him. “Y-yeah I’m fine Dean, I think I just saw…no, it couldn’t have been… Don’t worry” Cas stammered in reply, still taken a back. He stopped himself from admitting that he thought he had recognised you because the boys were still devastated after your disappearance. He didn’t get a good look at you so he wasn’t 100% sure. But he remembered that voice and those eyes, It could have been Y/N, he thought.
“Well I’m starving, is there a diner around?” Dean stated pulling Cas from his thoughts, “Yeah there’s one on the corner.” Sam recommended. The three of them started walking towards the diner but Cas trailed behind when his eye caught a stack of discarded posters in a bin, the same ones you had been carrying. He slowly walked up to the bin and picked one up, as the brothers walked into the diner.

Meanwhile you were in the backroom getting changed into your uniform. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and secured it in place with a few bobby pins. You secured your name tag to your cotton uniform top and wrapped your apron around your waist. You pushed open the back door and stepped behind the counter as you saw the backs of two men walking to a booth. One was shorter with hair to match and the other tall with longish hair. You didn’t recognise them so they must have been from out of town you thought whilst filling up a fresh pot of coffee.

“Hey I reckon Pete is finally going to ask you out Y/N” one of your fellow waitresses teased, “He’s been here all afternoon waiting for you to clock onto your shift” she continued. You just smiled and laughed, “Well that is very sweet of him, but unfortunately I’m not in the mood so I’ll have to pass”. 

You appreciated the girls trying to cheer you up. They knew you were giving up looking for your family and knew how important that was to you. The coffee pot was half full when you pulled it out of the machine and made your way out from behind the counter to the usual patrons. You were pouring the blushing Pete some coffee when the man who you walked into was running past the diner windows. His trench coat flew behind him as he clutched one of your posters in his hands. He pulled opened the door as the bell tinkled and ran past you whilst slamming the poster in front of the two unknown men. They were all staring at the poster in disbelief as you walked up behind the men in the trench coat and interrupted them, “coffee?” you sweetly asked. The three men turned around, eyes bulging and it was then that you recognised them making you drop the coffee pot in surprise. You grabbed your head and dropped to your knees as memories flooded into your head,

Black leather seats of Baby whilst Dean drove and Sam sat shotgun.
State names on sign posts on vacant highways as you joked with Cas in the back seat.
A toy army soldier which Dean had stuck in a pocket of the car door when he was a kid.
The initials SW, DW and Y/I carved in jaggered lines for Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester and Y/N Winchester .
Motel rooms, Dad’s old journal and faded photos of your family.
Guns, knives and salt you used against monsters you fought alongside your brothers.
Black Smoke of demons, hex bags of witches and strong liquor used as a sedative when you sewed your brothers up.
Neon vacancy signs and weary bodies when you finally found a place to stay after a hunt.
Tomb stones of your parents and cross roads where you attempted to make deals to bring them back.
The melody of your favourite lullaby, Hey Jude.
Your Mothers scream and your father’s shouts for Dean to take you and Sam outside.
The old house on fire and hospital waiting rooms as you waited on news of your injured love ones.
The piercing stares of the Yellow eyed demon, Green eyes of Dean, Brown eyes of Sam, Red eyes of Crowley, Black eyes of demons and Blue eyes of Castiel.
Castiel, the angel in his trench coat.
Crowley, the squat king with an English accent
.
Metallica T-shirts and cassettes tapes belonging to Dean.
Plaid shirts of Sam’s and pentagram tattoos which you all shared.

“Y/N!, Y/N!… Sweetheart c’mon wake-up… there we go honey don’t worry we got you, we got you now”, a voice in which you hadn’t heard for what felt like a lifetime but recognised as Sam’s swirled around your head bringing you back to consciousness. You blinked your eyes until your vision was no longer blurry. Three men looked down on you with worried and tired eyes waiting to see your reaction to the surprise reunion. You burst into tears as you recognised the men who around you were the same from that photo. Your brothers Sam and Dean and the angel who sat on their shoulders. You had finally found them. Dean pulled you in for a tight hug when you started to cry and he finally got to hold you again. You inhaled his rich scent of whisky and gun powder as Sam kissed the top of your forehead and patted your back smiling. You were all crying on the diner floor as your clothes soaked in the spilt coffee and tears. None the less it was the happiest you had ever been. You felt that hole inside your chest finally fill with the returning love of your real family. “God we thought you were dead Y/N. You went for that hunt and you never came home… we looked up, down and across the country for you but we couldn’t find you” Dean confessed as you sobbed into his chest. “It’s alright bug, we got you now. No one is ever going to separate you from us again. We are family and we will always find our way back to each other.” Dean promised and with that he picked you up and put you back on your feet. You walked past your boss still crying and fell into her embrace as you thanked her for everything she had done for you. She whispered back into your ear, “I told you they would find you darling”. Your brothers thanked her and then you walked out the diner and over the road to where Baby was parked. Sam sat in the back with you as Cas rode shotgun and Dean drove back home and back to your old life.

6

The Perfection is nearby! Workspace

Here are some of the products that make this workspace an Amazing Workspace:

Unlucky Robot

by reddit user IPostAtMidnight

When I was young, I had the worst luck making friends. Not for the regular reasons—I wasn’t much different than the other kids in my neighborhood, and I wasn’t too weird, or at least I wasn’t back then. No, I was actually pretty normal, until that one Halloween night when my luck changed.

For my costume that year, I wore a box wrapped in tinfoil. There were blinking lights and buttons glued on the front, and I’d cut two holes for my arms, which were covered in those flexible dryer vent hoses. With a metal colander strapped on my head and a plastic laser gun, I was a serious robot death machine. Humans beware.

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hamelin-born  asked:

Fic Prompt: Five Small Fandom Coldwave Crossover/Fusions.

…so I interpreted “small” as “short”, so these are each three sentences long.

5 + 1 Small Coldwave Crossovers

Ao3 link

Historical:

“Musical!” Mick shouts, pointing at Alexander Hamilton’s face.

“…actually,” Washington says slowly, “I don’t think Mr. Hamilton can sing at all.”

“Like a yowling cat being beaten, sir,” Hamilton says promptly.

Time Travel:

“Do you ever regret stealing anything?” Sara asks Len. “Ever?”

“Never,” Len snorts, flipping open the wallet he’d lifted and reading the name ‘Martin McFly’ on the driver’s license.

“Wait!” he yells, and dashes after the young man he’d lifted it from. “I need to give you this back!”

Mystery:

“I personally prefer Poirot,” Mick says. “I never much liked Holmes.”

“Oh, thank god!” the man exclaims, hugging Mick. “You’re not a fan! You’re not a fan! You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve met someone who wasn’t!”

“Help!” Mick yelps as Len laughs at him.

Fantasy:

Mick walks in and scoops Len up, tossing him over his shoulder.

“Love your work,” he grunts to the old professor who Len had been chatting with. “Gotta go!”

“No!” Len wails. “You don’t understand! That’s JRR Tolkien! I have so much I want to ask!”

Science Fiction:

“Live long and prosper,” Mick tells the Thanagarians solemnly.

“That is a most noble greeting,” their ambassador says, sounding impressed. “Your people must be most advanced culturally to use such a salutation.”

“Let me show you the hand gesture,” Len says. “You can use it when you first meet Earth’s representatives in a more formal fashion…”

+ One Other:

Len drifts in the whirlpool of the Oculus with all the other souls lost in time.

“There’s no way out of this time warp,” one says mournfully.

“No, no, no, I know this one,” Len says. “It’s just a jump to the left - and a step to the right -”

(no one’s more surprised than Len when it actually works)

“No Means No”

↱  “just don’t tell mommy, okay?”
▷ fluff
pairing: zico x reader


“No, not right now.”
“Mommy said no, you have to listen.”
“Now, Minsoo, what did I tell you?”
“..Because I said so.”

and the famous, “No means no.” were all popular and well used phrases that ran throughout the four walls of the house you shared with your husband Jiho and 4 year old boy, Minsoo.

The first year that he was born was the best year you could have asked for filled his with first words, Minsoo finally learning to crawl,  and butterfly kisses that Jiho had taught him before bedtime. He was stubborn, as any baby was, but it seemed like the second that he turned two the phrase “Terrible Two’s” was the definition of you life in and out of home. The tantrums started, tears when you would say no and nights where it felt like he would never get to sleep. Then, he turned three and you prayed it would take it all away. You wished he would make a complete 180, but instead he continued on his path of stubborness. Four was the age that it got to its peak,  and you decided it was time to look a little deeper, search a little longer, and figure out what the root of the problem was. It took you a while to learn just what sparked this in your son, carefully observing his behavior at all hours of the day trying to determine whether or not it was a certain time of day that sparked his tantrums, and even going as far to check on him every hour of the night to make sure he was getting enough sleep. Nothing about his natural routines were skewed, he was eating 3 meals a day with small snacks in between, and even his naps and TV time were never interrupted. But, there was one major disturbance that you were finally able to realize was the cause of his daily tantrums and fits from a word as simple as ‘no.’

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Blind Date

A/N: The last of my fic winners returned! So this is for you, @mygubl3rnation! Enjoy.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” You asked, trying to think of a way out of this now that your nerves had found you. Your sister Penelope had set you up with one of her colleagues after you complained about being single but this had not been what you had in mind.

“Don’t be silly, he’s smart and you’re a good catch,” Penelope replied, practically pushing you down the corridor of your apartment building.

“How smart?” You continued to ask questions, looking for a way out.”

“Very smart.”

“What if he thinks I’m dumb?”

“Look, do you think if I thought this was a bad idea I’d have set this up?” She answered with a question, stopping and looking at you. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve been saying how all you want is to meet a nice guy for once and beyond Derek, who is mine, Spencer is the nicest person I know.”

“So you date him!” Penelope scowled at you, turning you back towards the front door.

“That’d be like dating our brother and I’m not that kinda girl,” Penelope joked, making you laugh as you reached the doorway.

“Ok, ok, I’m going but you have to be by your phone waiting the safe word,” you said, waving your mobile phone at her.

“Yes, yes, in repayment for the bobble head incident, I owe you one bad date rescue.” Penelope waved her on. “It won’t be like that, I know you both too well… just… if he starts with statistics it’s better to just let him do it and nod along.”

“Wait, what?” You asked, but too late. Penelope had pushed you out of the door and the cab was waiting.

~

In all honesty, Spencer was kind of cute, with his perfectly shaped features but awkward demeanour. Unfortunately, his awkward demeanour matched yours, meaning that beyond ‘hi’ and ‘how are you?’ the conversation was slow. Every now and then he’d glance at you and you’d glance at him, sharing an awkward smile and thinking desperately for something to say. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

“So um… I’m gunna go out on a limb here and say that you were as reluctant to agree to this as I was?” He asked with a weak smile.

“You could say that,” you replied, smiling back.

“What did she threaten you with?” His question made you think back to when she’d told you what she’d arranged.

“Mostly unending guilt but… she topped it up with the threat of infecting my computer with a kitty picture virus,” you chuckled, realising how silly that was. “How about you?”

“She threatened to bedazzle everything I owned, including my clothes.” He reached into his pocket. “I didn’t believe her till she gave me this,” Spencer produced what looked like a completely bedazzled wallet, covered in silver sequins, but as he opened it up he revealed his FBI credentials.

“Oh my God, are you even allowed to do that?” You asked, taking the flip wallet and examining the workmanship of the bedazzling.

“No, I’m gunna have to get a new flip wallet. I just wanna know how she managed to get hold of it in the first place,” you both smiled at each other, feeling a lot more comfortable. Handing back the flip wallet, you made the decision not to send the S.O.S. text after all. “As much as this is annoying, I’m glad she did it.”

“Me too,” you replied.

“So what do you do when you’re not being terrorised by Penelope?”

“I’m kinda nerdy, just not in the cool, retro kind of nerdy. I like to read a lot of internet fiction.” His confused look made her explain. “Like, where people love a show so they right their own stories surrounding it.”

“Oh, you mean a fan-fiction?” Spencer asked. “You know, I read that the um… ’50 Shades of Grey’ was originally a fan-fiction. I find it fascinating that people can build this whole separate lifestyle and attitude from what they see on the shows or in the movies. Kinda scary but amazing.”

“Well, yeah but it’s nice to read how other people interpret the characters,” you explained. “How about you? What is Spencer Reid into?”

“I like to read too but… mostly in other languages,” you looked shocked as he explained.

“Wow, Penelope said you were smart.”

“What else did Penelope say?” he asked curiously.

“I dunno, that you were the nicest guy she knew… oh, except for Derek, apparently.”

“Oh,” he said simply, looking somewhat disappointed.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’re a nice guy,” your word’s made him smile with genuine pleasure.

“Thank you, I think you’re pretty nice too.”

The night went on, more and more small talk passed as you got to know each other before you discussed what seemed like the deepest and most meaningful things in the world. Most of the people around you had left and you were both the last, remaining couple still seated when it was finally time to call it a night.

“So er… I have to admit, I had an S.O.S. message, waiting to send to Derek, just in case but I’m pretty sure I didn’t need it,” Spencer smiled as her helped you put on your coat. “Perhaps we could do this again sometime? Maybe just for a coffee?”

“I’d like that.” You replied, smiling to yourself as you left him standing.

Day 23: 3am and the fire alarm in our apartment complex just went off let me lend you my jacket while we wait on the sidewalk + stalia

A/N: Edited for tone moving forward. 

Even If I Swim, I’ll Drown - Chapter 1

Malia was not a fan of the cold. She hated how it would seep through any cracks, the feeling like it was curling into her bones, turning her into an icicle slowly. Even on mildly chilly nights like this one, she shivered wishing so hard that she had the common sense to pick up a heavier sweatshirt.

She had been fast asleep when the deafening fire alarm went off in her studio apartment at three o’clock in the morning, scaring the shit out of her. What kind of person was awake at this late hour, and what did they do to set off the alarm?

That was how Malia found herself was outside in her pyjamas and bunny slippers. She had slipped into the first thing when she panicked, before taking the stairs to the ground floor. Now they were probably dirtied by the pavement, and she would have to wash them. The night was looking better and better.

“Probably some drunk that got the munchies after a long night,” a voice muttered beside her.

Malia turned to look at the guy in the leather jacket standing beside her, positive that she hadn’t said anything out loud.

He had his head tilted up, like he was trying to figure out which floor was the source of the disturbance. She noticed that he didn’t look as haggard as the rest of the residents, and in fact looked like he just arrived.

Lucky him.

She on the other hand had been cocooned in her warm bed, dreaming about running through the woods. It had been a lovely dream but the angle seemed off. Like she was closer to the ground than she ought to be… The dream had been slightly disorienting, but then again when did her dreams ever make sense?

“Wonderful,” Malia responded out loud also looking up. “I wish he had scheduled his stupidity for another night though.”

“Nice dream?”

“Weird dream, fitful sleep,” Malia rubbed her arms to get the circulation back again. Thinking about warm places did nothing for her. At least she was wearing her fleece pjs, so small graces.

“Here,” the guy said as he shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. It was so unexpected, Malia simply blinked at him but accepted it all the same.

She instantly felt warmer as she slipped her arms into the too big sleeves, zipping it up quickly. The jacket had a warm lining, that easily protected her from the wind.

Malia was half expecting him to start chatting her up, now that she had given him an opening, but he surprised her when he stood quietly, hands in his pockets.

Not like most guys then.

Stiles checked out the girl in the bunny slippers subtly. Seeing them made him smile, but he didn’t dare let that image sway what type of personality she might have. She looked to be new; to the complex and to the area, which intrigued him. People rarely moved to this rundown neighbourhood by choice. Must be in the foster care system.

He had strict orders not to befriend people from the building; you never knew who their friends might be. But surely there wasn’t a rule against chivalry right? He would just get the jacket back when they could go back in again. No one had to know.

Plus she looked really good in leather. Finding it hard to keep the thought to himself, he turned towards her completely, “You should get one. It looks good on you.”

Malia turned to him confused and then realized he was talking about the jacket. “From what I’ve seen, leather makes everyone look hot,” She paused and then continued, “not that I was implying that I’m hot. Or that you were while you were wearing it.”

Stiles hid a smile as he nodded, “Noted.” Just then they heard the fire truck turning into their complex and moved to the opposite sidewalk as directed.

“Finally!” Malia muttered under her breath.

It took a couple minutes after to sort out the issue—night time cooking. He was right—and as soon as they were signalled that it was safe to go back in, Malia shot forward before Stiles could say anything.

As he watched her go, Stiles gritted his teeth. Now what was he going to say to Scott tomorrow when he came to school without his jacket? He didn’t even know what floor she lived on, and it wasn’t like the neighbours would be forthcoming about sharing information…

Malia reached her apartment when she realized that she still had the nice guy’s jacket on. She took it off quickly trying to decide how she would go about returning it—considering she didn’t even know where he lived—when she spotted the emblem on the side of the right sleeve.

It felt as if someone threw a bucket of cold water over her, as she stared at the simple design of a yellow circle within a larger, thicker red circle. Rooted to the spot, she remembered one of the first things she was told when she moved here. It had seemed so simple back then, Malia thought she would have no trouble adhering to it.

When was she going to catch a break?

Not only had she worn the jacket, but also talked to a member of the notorious gang known as the Beacon Wolves. The same gang she had been warned to not get mixed up in. Frantically, she checked the pockets for ID hoping he was of a lower rank. Not that it would make things better, but still.

Being bounced around enough times in the system, Malia knew a thing or two about gangs and very quickly learned about territories and gang wars. Enough to know it was safe to be clear of them. Safe when you didn’t get involved with them. That was the rule.

Tracy had told her some of it like names, ranks, and gang turfs just to get a better idea on how to stay out of harm’s way. Talking to one of them was just…

“Please, please be of a lower rank,” she said as she felt around the pocket. Pulling out the wallet, she flipped it open and stared at the student card with the familiar colours of the high school she had just enrolled in that year.

Her hands shook as she read the name over and over, as though she was hoping if she stared hard enough, that it would change. From what she had heard, he was far from nice, definitely not a gentleman, and one hundred percent trouble.

She was so beyond screwed.

A/N: Hullo Lovelies! Who knew accepting a kind gesture from a stranger could go so horribly wrong? :D I actually would love to am continuing this story. I have no idea how my prompt morphed into this…like it has so much potential, and literally begging to be written. Hope you enjoyed the read! Much love~ Nenz

BITE: Chapter 4

percy jackson / teen wolf crossover.

4/? - Lydia

Lydia had wanted to drive, but it had been enough of a struggle convincing Percy and Annabeth to go with them at all after Stiles and Isaac’s performance; letting them drive themselves to the loft seemed like a fair compromise. 

Having Lydia sit in their back seat, not so much.

The idea was that they’d be less inclined to just drive off with a relative stranger in their car, but honestly there wasn’t anything stopping them from booting her out on the curb and racing away. That was why Stiles had protested so much, but Lydia had ended up offering herself up as a sort of show of good will - like, Hey, I’m willing to lock myself in a car with you, I know you aren’t as bad as all those news reports and expulsions make you out to be!

Truthfully, she was more intrigued than scared. There was obviously something weird about these two, but she wasn’t convinced that it was the bad sort of weird. 

Even if Annabeth had glared at her like she wanted to strangle her to death as they’d stomped out of Lydia’s house.

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Without Sanctuary the

@stiledsarcasm:

It was going to get cold soon. Stiles always hated this time of year. Instead of being able to just sit on a street corner with his trust, rusty tin can, trying to build up enough funds for a one dollar burger at the local McDonald’s, he had to spend that time walking all over this damn town, scouting locations where he’d be able to set up some kind of spot to be able to camp through the cold winter nights. The old factory building were tempting, but those always held a bunch of crackheads. The bank was another option, but the water from the river, frozen or not, just made it more cold. Finding a spot to sleep shouldn’t be this hard.

But that was his life. The life of some degenerate, homeless kid with no more than five bucks to his name. That was him. A kid without a home, without a family and without a future. Each day, he just hoped he’d survive to see the next day.

He heaved a heavy sigh, hating that he could see the thin white puff his breath made. His stomach was clenching in hunger, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. He was getting desperate. He toyed with the idea of trying to find Marcus, a local drug dealer who apparently had a soft spot for him. But Stiles never liked Marcus. He was the definition of the guy who could smile at you and hug you one minute and cap you with a .45 the next. But at least that’d be a better way to go than freezing to death.

Sighing, he decided that a break for an hour wouldn’t kill him (yet), so he found a street corner, sunk down against the wall of a building, pulled out his can and decided to wait. For what, he had no idea.

Chris lost everything he ever cherished, he lost his life, he lost his family and the fancy house they used to live in. He left New York after the accident and moved to a smaller town. He knew his family came from Beacon Hills, they had an abandoned house there he could move into. That’s what he’d thought, he didn’t expect the house to be that big, though. 

He didn’t think he could stay in there all by himself any longer. He tugged on his coat, wrapped a scarf around his neck and pulled on his boots before setting out. He had a light limp to his steps, an aftermath of the accident. That’s what happened when you had a bullet in your thigh and a knife in your hip because someone decided they liked and wanted your wife’s necklace.

But he was alive and he was going to try make the best of it. Not today, though. Today he’d walk the town and wallow in self-pity. That was until he came towards a kid sitting by a street corner. There were always people who had it worse, but a kid out in the cold? He stopped, flipping his wallet open to drop money into his can, but he didn’t walk away. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold.”

anonymous asked:

okay but. AU where Keith works at Costco or smth and serves samples and lance is a customer who keeps coming back for some reason and Keith's like 'why don't you just buy it already?' but lance is only there for the cute boy and not the samples

This was the seventh time. The seventh. Keith’s sample plate was dwindling. His crops were withering. The people were starving. Enough was enough.

“You’re not even trying to be subtle about this anymore are you?” he asked the boy who was reaching for another one of his fruit cups.

“Mmmmm…nope,” he said, plucking one up and downing it in one go.

Welp.

At least he was honest.

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