grove way

Root: I know you think my judgemment’s clouded because I like her a little bit.

Finch: You doodled your wedding invitation.

Root: No, that’s our joint tombstone.

Finch: My mistake.

This Is What Red Looks Like - A Jason Lee Scott Soulmate Imagine

Request: I was wondering if you would write a soulmate imagine for Jason? Like where you have their first words tattooed or maybe you can’t see colours until you lock eyes. Or you could make up your own. - @xxlashtonxjonnorxx

A/N: I combined your requests and just tweaked them a bit. I hope you enjoy this one, I freaking loved writing it! And written in Jason’s point of view because I’m trash for that, blond-haired, blue-eyed dork. :)

Summary: One morning Jason wakes up with strange grey symbols tattooed on his left ring finger, everyone asks him about it. He has no idea where they came from…

Warnings: Swears maybe. Funny, fluffy shizz… in case you’re as much of a sucker for cute as I am. Haha.

It’s another bright day in Angel Grove, Jason made his way towards his friends, blue eyes beaming. If there’s one thing he knows for sure, it’s that life seems to suck a little less with the people you care about by your side.

“Hey Jas, are you ready for that quiz today in math?” Kimberly asked as he came to a stop beside her.

“Not a chance. When do any of us ever pay attention in math class?” Jason replied, earning a laugh and quick nods from the rest of the group.

Suddenly Zack had Jason’s left hand in his, the blond’s backpack falling down his arm. “Dude! Why didn’t you tell us you were getting a tattoo? We’d have gone with!”

“Because I didn’t get a tattoo. What’s your problem? Hit your head a few too many times at the mines, Zack?” Jason playfully punched Zack’s shoulder with his free hand.

Trini snorted at the exchange between her best friends, her eyes land on the mark on Jason’s left ring finger. “If you didn’t get a tattoo, then what’s that?”

Pulling his hand out of Zack’s, Jason glanced at it. His eyes grow wide when he sees the light grey symbols on his finger. “What the hell? Guys, I didn’t get a tattoo. Pearl must have drawn it on me while I was sleeping.”

The other Rangers watched as Jason vigorously rubbed at his hand, trying to remove the symbol with no luck.

“That’s definitely permanent. Maybe it’s a Power Rangers thing and we just haven’t gotten ours yet!” Billy piped up, excitement flooding his voice.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Billy, but wouldn’t it have made sense if we all got them at the same time? And if Jason’s is red, wouldn’t all of ours be our Ranger colors too?” Kimberly asked looking at the others.

Billy considered her words then turned to Jason, “Yeah, you’re right. Well, maybe it has something to do with you being the leader?”

“Kim, your definition of red and my definition of red are clearly two totally different things. This is grey.” Jason answered waving his hand in front of Kimberly’s face.

Trini and Zack let out roaring laughs, both of them clutching their sides. Jason frowned at his friends, “What?”

Zack clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “Oh, Crazy Girl and I just find it extremely hilarious that you think this is grey. It’s red, dude. You need to get your eyes checked.”

“No, you idiots need to get your eyes checked. It’s clearly grey, I should know, it’s tattooed on my hand.” Jason was growing frustrated; first the symbol appeared out of nowhere tattooed on his finger, now the others were laughing at him for seeing a different color than they did.

“Wait! I’ve heard about this happening before. You can’t see the color, but we can. Apparently, your soulmate has the same tattoo and it’s probably the same color. I bet, they can’t see it either.” Trini said hoping to put Jason’s mind at ease.

It was all too weird, but then again, a lot of weird things had happened since the five of them had become Power Rangers. It’s not everyday a group of teenagers saves their small town from being overrun by a psycho alien, at least it hadn’t been before. But this was different and Jason didn’t have any idea what it meant.

He sighed feeling defeated, “Come on, we’re gonna be late for class.”

As he made his way to his locker, Jason was knocked into by someone passing by. Both of their backpacks and a book ended up on the floor.

“Hey, are you okay?” He bent down to help pick up their things.

A dark haired girl smiled sheepishly looking down at her shoes, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

It was Jason’s turn to smile, “It’s no problem. Good book?”

“My favorite, actually. I always seem to pay more attention to it than where I’m going. Sorry again.”

“It really is no problem.” Jason handed the girl her book.

When she reached out to take it, their fingers brushed against each other. Warmth instantly spread throughout their bodies, pooling in their hands where their fingers touched. Looking down both of them gasped in shock.

“Holy shit!” They breathed out in unison.

Jason opened his mouth to say something but quickly snapped it shut. There was no way this girl, who he had seen around school but never actually met, had the exact same tattoo as he did. They had to be the butt of someone’s sick joke.

“I- You- We-” she began, “Holy shit…”

The two of them looked up, eyes meeting for the first time since bumping into each other. Suddenly they felt a prickling feeling in their fingers and drew their hands back.

Jason was the first to look at his hand and back up at the girl in front of him. The tattoo now appeared to have changed colors - where it had been grey just minutes before, it was now a vibrant color that he had never seen before.

“Jason. Jason Scott.” He introduced himself, holding out his left hand to her.

“Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She extended her left hand and shook Jason’s, smiling sweetly up at him.

Jason’s blue eyes were fixed on the tattoos that sat on each of their ring fingers, he spoke in a soft tone that he knew only she would hear. “So this is what red looks like…”

What the hell have I done?! This is so cute it’s ugly. I might consider making another one if you really liked it. Sorry if it’s super shitty, haha. I had fun anyway. :)

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to ask that are you going to stop writing teen wolf imagines when it comes to end? Please don't stop writing them. ☹

Lets put it this way. Hemlock Grove has been over for two years and I’m still writing for it.

There’s no way Jeff can make me leave Beacon Hills.

Scared It's Not True (Scared That You Don't Feel The Same Way As I Do)

After several days of Ranger training, Trini needed to get some anger out without punching or kicking the putties. She looks around her room for something, anything, to get the anger out of her. To forget about her mom bombarding her with questions, to forget about the ‘perfect daughter’ image her parents wanted. Her eyes scan from wall to wall, landing on a picture of her swinging a bat, making perfect contact with the ball. Being the oldest on her 12U team, it was no surprise that she was good, but she never thought she was good enough to hit a grand slam.

She walks up to plate, bases loaded. She takes two more practice swings and hits her cleats with the bat before stepping in the box, holding her hand out to the umpire so she could get in her stance. As soon as she drops her hand and gets in position, giving the pitcher her famous death glare, she watches the windup, the watches the ball go by her. High and outside, though the catcher still managed to get it. Ball one. She steps out of the box, taking one more swing while looking for a hole in the outfield. She steps in the box and repeats what she did last time. The pitcher does her windup again, pitching another ball that inside. Ball two. The same thing happens the next time she steps in the box, but the pitch was in the dirt. Three strikes, no balls. 'Come on, pitch it in there,’ she thought before the pitcher stepped on the rubber. She could tell the pitcher let out a deep breath before her windup, Trini paid attention to small things like that. But what she really paid attention to was the way the ball came off the pitchers hand. The small girl could tell it was going to be a strike, so she waited for what seemed like 5 years for the ball to come to her, then had done exactly what she did in practice; she put the bat to the ball. She felt a surge of energy run through her as she hauled herself to first base, listening for the base coach that told her to go, then looking up at the person in front of her who had ran to third and was now rounding it. She wanted so much to know where the ball had gone, but didn’t dare look back in fear of slowing down. Trini rounded second and looked at her base coach, who was telling her to round and go to third. Then he started circling his arms like a windmill to tell her to go home. Trini could see the ball coming in, it had been a bad throw to the cut off, so second baseman had to scoop it up and throw it. As the ball snapped into the catchers glove she went down, sliding into home plate just before the catcher bent down and tagged her. The dirt rose up around them, the umpire ready to call her out, but changes the sign to safe once he sees the dirt clear. Trini smiled as she got up, earning a bunch of cheers and hollers from the parents and siblings of the team, everyone on the team meeting her outside the dugout to congratulate her.

Trini gets up and looks in her closet for her bat, the 33 inch 24 oz bat she used to hit the grand slam with. No doubt in her mind that she would be a little rusty, she knew exactly what to do. Finding the bat hiding in a corner, she picks it up, finds her old batting gloves, and smiles as she makes her way down the stairs. She heads out but not before checking to see if her phone was in her pocket. Neither of her parents were home yet and her brothers hadn’t gotten home from school, so she has a good hour to get anger out. Making her way around the corner and down down several blocks, she makes it to a faded sign that says “Angel Grove Batting Cages”. Way to be creative. It looked like Trini was the only one there besides some of the workers and a father and his teenage daughter taking turns at bat.

Trini approaches the desk and puts a five on it, “Ten tokens please?” She asks nicely, putting on her sweet girl smile. The lady at the desk smiles and takes the five before handing Trini her ten tokens.

“Make sure to put a helmet on,” the lady reminds her. Trini just nods.

Finding a cage next to the father-daughter duo, Trini puts in a token after getting a helmet and her batting gloves on and pockets the others. Noticing the daughter was up to bat, she tried to recognize the dad. She remembered him from somewhere, but she can’t remember where. It was a little hard to make out the daughters’ face, seeing as she was wearing a helmet that covered it. She pressed softball on the machine and stayed the get ready, her tennis shoes becoming one with the Astro-Turf. She gets ready as the ball shoots towards her, swinging and missing. The short girl sighs as she gets ready for another one, this time hitting it with all of her built up anger. She hits ball after ball after ball until the machine runs out for that token. Stepping out of the cage, she takes her helmet off, running a hand through her hair before deciding to get a bottle of water. She takes three dollars out of her pocket and goes back up to the front desk to ask for a bottle of water. She pays and gets the water, taking sips of it as she walks back to the bench, sitting down and resting for a minute before stepping back into the cage. But before she does, she notices the daughter staring at her, as if she knows her. That couldn’t be possible though, no one she knows uses the batting cages, maybe it was some weird kid from school.


Kimberly sighs as she sits on her bed, doing her homework. Her parents had said they wouldn’t be home until late tonight, so really nothing has changed. Kim was focused on her homework for a good ten and a half minutes before deciding to check the group chat. Of course, Zack and Jason were being…well…. Zack and Jason. Both of them were reassuring Billy that the humor wasn’t important and he didn’t have to get the jokes to be apart of the messages going on right now. Kimberly laughs at some of the things that were said, and rolls her eyes at others, only to be interrupted by the sound of the door opening and her father shouting, “Kimmy! I’m home!”

Kim drops her phone on her bed and rushes out the bedroom door. “Ayah? Why are you home so early?”

He looks up at her descending from the stairs after taking his jacket off, “Nobody else scheduled anything, so I decided to come home.”

“That’s new,” Kim says, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah. Well, anyway, do you remember when we used to go to the batting cages when you were younger?” He raises his own eyebrow.

“Yeah, of course I do. You would always by me ice cream afterwards and tell me I did a great job even though I could barely hit three balls,” she smiles.

“Oh come on! You loved it! Especially the ice cream!” Her dad chuckles. “Why don’t you go get your bat and gloves?”

Kim’s eyes light up, and she rushes up the stairs to change and get the equipment, happy it would be like their old father-daughter bonding times. Ten minutes later she was rushing out the door to the car like the little 10 year old kid she used to be. She threw her equipment into the back and hurried her dad along, who tripped on some old boxes in the garage.


Now Kimberly was staring at another person who had walked in, not recognizing them from afar, she returns to batting… or watching her dad bat. He may have been a baseball star in high school, but his age isn’t helping him. “Come on Ayah, you can do it,” she chuckles playfully.

“Tell yourself that when you’re 46,” he chuckles as he finishes with the baseballs. It’s not Kim’s turn, and she was dreading her first go, as she hadn’t done this in years. Putting her token in and pressing 'Softball’, she gets ready to bat, taking a deep breath. She notices the girl coming over to the batting cage next hers, but couldn’t look at her long because the balls had started coming at her. Swing after swing after swing, Kim finally gets the hang of swinging the bat again. She hasn’t felt this good in years, it’s like she can let all of her worries and fears go right into the swing, and not have to carry them around anymore. Kim can hear the other girl grunting in the cage, something must be bothering her, but she tries not to loose focus. The balls run out and it’s her dads turn again, she decides to keep her helmet on because she’d just be getting back in the cage. The other girl had finished a little after her and had taken her helmet off to go get water, and as she’s walking back Kim recognizes that face. Realizes she would recognize that face anywhere.


Trini came to the batting cages? That’s something Kim would have ask about later. But with her heart rate suddenly picking up, she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the shorter girl. As Trini looked her way, she hoped Trini wouldn’t recognize her. She didn’t, because she just looks away after, or if she did she hadn’t said anything. After resting for a little longer, Trini shot back up and got herself ready to prepare for the cage again. Kim’s dad finished once again, hitting several that looked like they could’ve been home runs. He high fives her as she steps into the cage and does the same thing to start the machine. She notices Trini hadn’t been batting yet, but pacing around the cage muttering things to herself.

“Los Power Rangers, y el entrenamiento y Zordon. Zack haciendo todas esas bromas sobre ti y Kim. Tus padres quieren que seas el "niño del cartel”, diciendo que extrañan a su hija y la quieren de vuelta. Y Kimberly no te gusta volver. Cada vez que se despierta a tu lado durante esos estúpidos pijamas que Billy pone juntos y sonríe como si todo fuera platónico y tuvieras que sonreír y fingir que no estás muriendo por dentro, porque tu corazón late a mil millas por hora,“ Trini mutters, not realizing that the girl in the cage next to her could hear and understand every word.

Kim freezes at the sound of her name being said, especially in that form, 'Y Kimberly no te gusta volver’.

And Kimberly not liking you back.

The words ring in Kimberly’s mind, they come at her like she had just been hit by the water in the pit for the very first time. The thrill and the scariness of jumping off of the cliff.


Trini pauses as she looks into the other cage after finishing her rant of things to get her riled up, all she had heard were the balls hitting against the backstop, and that was unusual because the girl next to her had been pretty constant in hitting.


Getting closer to the cage, closer to the girl, she now realizes it’s Kimberly, and she understood every word of that.

Shit, shit, shit.

Trini stood there for a minute, her face bearing the same expression as Kim’s. Remembering how to move, she drops her helmet and sprints out of the cage as fast as she can.

Kim takes off her helmet, running out of the cage as well, shouting, "Trini! Come back!” But, Trini doesn’t listen, as expected. Kim looks between the direction Trini went, and her Ayah, and after a quick minute, takes off sprinting after Trini.


countdown to Hemlock Grove Romancek season 3 ⇢ 103: The Order of the Dragon

Are you sure it wasn’t you? I never go out on an empty stomach. Also, fuck you.


Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale 

Pitch Perfect

Plot: Everything was perfect. was. 

Chapter One:

Word Count: 3,169


Present Day.

The clouds gathered right on time in the autumn-lit sky and lightning flashed in all windows of the house, clattering glasses together with each crack of thunder. Before, the day had been cast in a dome of plasma blue, but as it came to a close, clouds appeared. Rain poured through the December skylight, pattering on the roof so loud the creaky house shook like a tent in a hurricane. The sound bounced from wall to wall and echoed the night skies’ anger. The dining room was dimly lit by fading electricity. It was the only room in the house to flood with light.

Chloe and Beca both stood on the outside of the dining room door frame and down the hall. The radiance leaked just close enough to reach their faces while lightning brightened the living room on the other end. Beca was standing two feet from her fiancee, scratching at her hands with short nails, knowing what she wanted to say, but having no ability to force it from her already dry throat. Chloe saw concern in the piercing lake eyes before her. She wanted to ask why they were standing in the hall, unmoved, but the wider the pit in her stomach grew, the less she wanted to speak up.

“I love you.” Beca inquired for a response, tears not yet breaking the surface of pale skin.

Her voice left Chloe’s stomach turning upside down with a false sense of hope. The feeling was impassioned, cracked with the contradiction of affection and self loathing. Chloe’s glassy eyes finally looked up from the blurry floor and met the other pair. It was a stare that held hands with despondency and distance, yet battled with the familiar feeling they once called home. Chloe gripped the hall table ends with her nails sliding on the oak wood. She winced at the old groves, splintering their way into her palm. “I-I love you too.. Is everything okay?” Chloe felt her hip carve into the end table.

Beca twisted the ring on her finger and Chloe’s breath staggered. She studied the look on her Fiancee’s face and felt her lungs collapse. Chloe sighed and her gut exploded in her body just staring at the uncertainty in Beca’s eyes. Every hair on her body stood up and every inch of her skin began to tremble.

“Of course.” Beca’s voice was brittle, words failing her once again. One hand grasped the hem of Chloe’s shirt, with tears sliding down her freckled cheek. Her fractured, coffee eyes drifted down her girlfriend’s body and fell to the creaking hardwood floor under their bare feet. She shook her head and fastened her eyes shut, as her ginger bun came undone. Her grip loosened and she let go.


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