his biggest secret

Whenever Joker goes out under cover (as a regular civilian) he wears a scarf to cover his mouth and hide his teeth.

Now imagine he meets Bruce Wayne, they hit it off and start dating, both completely ignorant to who the other really is.

Joker goes out more as a regular person now that he has a boyfriend. During the day they date, and by night they fight, both careful not to reveal who they really are.

Bruce has seen the man without his scarf but it’s extremely rare and he speaks smaller, facing down to hide his mouth. Bruce just thinks he’s shy, and finds it adorable.

During an intimate moment together, Jokers scarf removed so they could share kisses, Bruce finally tells his boyfriend his biggest secret.. he’s Batman.

The Joker laughs like it was a bad joke, laughs so hard that Bruce sees his sharp pointed teeth and instantly recognizes the smile.

Joker slaps his hands over his mouth, realizing what Bruce had seen “… You’re not serious” he asks

And suddenly they realize who they have been seeing..

now that the Haters ™ have come out of the woodwork to whine about the batcat proposal, some complaints i keep hearing again and again are that this marriage is bad for selina because she’ll be stuck in some domestic role and that she doesn’t get enough out of their relationship and batcat shippers only care about bruce??? which honestly couldn’t be further from the truth.

so here, my friends, are some reasons batcat is a good pairing for selina and how their relationship has positively affected her growth as a character

first off, as most selina fans know, while our girl talks a big game, she still deals with a fair amount of self-loathing and often talks about herself in a negative way. 

i’m too lazy to flip through my entire comics collection, but suffice it to say, there have also been multiple times when selina has called herself ‘street trash’, ‘not a good person’, or just plain ‘bad’. she sometimes plays it off as part of her bravado, but look at her facial expressions when she says stuff like this. at best, she’s resigned, and at worst, she looks downright heartbroken.

(source)

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selina has been looked down on her entire life and used like a tool by others–to the point where at times she feels like the only positive thing about her is that she’s a master thief.

bruce, on the other hand, doesn’t let selina get away with talking about herself like that. bruce is someone who always, always believes the best of her, even when she feels like she doesn’t deserve it. someone who reminds her that she’s actually a compassionate and selfless person capable of great things. 

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anonymous asked:

Hey :) have you know any sterek fic where Stiles have to hide what he really is (omega, human, etc)? Something like Mulan AU?

Hope these are along the lines of what you were looking for!  -Emmy

Originally posted by anastasiagreenleaf

Suddenly You’re Standing Still by gottalovev 

(7,669 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek, secret werefox!stiles, first time

A long time ago, Stiles promised his mom that he’d never cross the Hale property lines. He has kept his word even if there hasn’t been a Hale in Beacon Hills for years, not since the fire. But suddenly Scott gets turned into a werewolf, Derek Hale is back, and Stiles has to share his biggest secret. (AU set in S1+ where Stiles is a born werefox)

Stiles Isn’t Allowed to be Awesome by neil4god 

(19,137 I Not Rated I Complete)   *sterek, stiles/omc, secret bamf!stiles, Marvel fusion

Stiles isn’t just the pack’s resident human, soft & squishy & easily breakable. Stiles comes from  long line of secret agents and could probably give James Bond a run for his money. Of course Stiles isn’t allowed be awesome which might be why some of the pack think he’s not worth their time.

Or, the one where Stiles can’t take it anymore and moves to New York without telling anyone & Derek finds out and has a melt down.

I Could be Long Gone by idratherwrite 

(26,421 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek, secret Omega!Stiles, threat of rape

Humans alphas and betas are used to treating human omegas like objects. Stiles and his father have managed to hide for years the fact that Stiles is an omega. When Stiles arrives at Beacon Hills he meets one Scott McCall and his friends and family, who are hiding an even bigger secret.

It’s almost everything that Stiles wants.

In the Hearts of Men by dinokittyalchemist 

(50,732 I Explicit I WIP)  *sterek, historical au, prince!derek, knight!derek, magic!stiles

There is no evil in magic, but in the hearts of men. This has been said many times, but never understood. Any caught using magic will be sentenced to death. This law has forced many into hiding and many to hate the king, his family, and his knights. Stiles is one of those many, but when he finds a knight with a potentialy fatal injury he can’t just leave him there to die, can he?

The Runaway Mate AU (Series) by SometimesyougettheBear

(88,989 I Explicit I Series WIP)  *sterek, secret Omega!stiles

Stiles is brilliant. He’s one of the youngest executive forensic accountants at the well-known security firm Baroff & Sons. He’s the one everyone hates, who owns disgustingly expensive furniture, always somehow wins the cases without trying, clean cut, attractive. It’s a charmed life and Stiles means to enjoy every minute of it. Until Derek Hale walks into his room and says one word that brings his entire life to a standstill
“Omega”
Now Stiles is running for his life and Derek  is hot on the chase.

Hidden Omega by Akinasky 

(107,401 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek, stiles/omc, derek/omc, derek/stiles/omc, secret Omega!stiles

As Stiles leaves for college, he must hide who he really is and then he meets his roommate and likes him … a lot only there is no chance for him to fill the needs that Stiles has as an Omega. Then he also finds his Alpha, Derek Hale (of course) and they all struggle to find their way and learning more about the special aspects of being an Omega and trying to have a unique relationship that will never be typical especially with Stiles, pushing and bossy Stiles as the Omega.

Inhale, Exhale

| © spiderlingy |

     It was on a rainy Saturday night where you and Peter were cuddled against each other on his comfortable bed under the warm blankets, watching the usual old films in his small yet cozy dark room. 

     Your eyelashes fluttered against your own cheeks, your ears distinguishing the steady rhythm of the rain pattering against the window panes and the soft muffled voices emitting from the film. Your eyes lazily trailed from the film to the glowing streaks of water on the window glass. Peter ran his hand gently through your hair, the thick strands slipping through his fingers like silk. You tilted your head up to admire his facial features, your eyes momentarily getting deeply lost in his, with the light from the television shining on his handsome face.

     “What?” Peter inquired with a sleepy grin, his drowsy lids fluttering like the majestic wings of a butterfly.

     “Nothing, I’m just really glad to have you, Peter Parker.” You sighed in content, gazing at him longingly. 

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First Crush (part 5/Final)

Originally posted by hardyness

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Tony Stark (dad) x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After being home schooled your whole life, it’s finally your first day in high school. You are so excited to finally have a chance to live a normal teenage life. Well as normal as you could get.

Word count: 758

A/N: This is the last part that I have written in this series. Hope you enjoyed it!

I just want to thank everyone that has liked and reblogged this series! I can’t believe how much you have loved it. I was so nervous to post anything here and was expecting that maybe two people are going to like it. Before posting this last part the series had almost thousand notes combined, that is unbelievable! Thank you so much, I’m so grateful! 

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4


“Wait, you two know each other?” your dad asked confused but you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth. “Wait the Peter?” Bucky asked grinning. You ignored his comment and tried to compose yourself. “Um, yeah Peter goes to my school” you finally answered and your dad introduced him to the rest of the team.

After the introductions, the party continued normally and you went to Peter. You grabbed his hand and led him someplace quieter. “So, you are Spider-Man?” you asked. You still couldn’t believe it. “Yeah. And I’m guessing that you are in fact Tony Stark’s daughter.” Peter answered and you two looked at each other quietly. “Well I guess there is no point getting mad at each other for not telling the other.” you said with a nervous laughter. “Yeah I guess both of our secrets are out now” he joined your laughter. “So… How long have you been Spider-Man?” you asked him and you spent an hour talking about your now exposed identities. That was until Bucky and Steve interrupted you. “So, you are the famous Peter that Y/N won’t stop talking about” Bucky starts and you felt the blush creep on your face. You could feel Peter staring at you and you looked the other way hoping that he wouldn’t see how red your face was. “I mean I feel like I already know you from all the stories that Y/N has told me” Bucky continued. 

Originally posted by lenaluthorcorporated

You cursed him in your mind and gave him the death glare. You were going to have your revenge tomorrow. You couldn’t think of anything to say to save the situation. You just sat there silently staring at the grin on Bucky’s face. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you all. I have been so nervous the whole day. I was kind of glad to see a familiar face when I got here” Peter answered looking at you, gladfully ignoring the awkwardness. You finally turned your head and smiled at him.

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Russel is the prettiest member of Gorillaz.

Who wants to hear my Gorillaz fashion headcanons? ‘Cause I’m gonna share them. [You can remove the headcanons when you reblog if you want.]

Russel has the most refined tastes, especially as he gets older. He appreciates good quality construction and fabrics, and classic silhouettes and styles. Deep jewel tones, dark navy and black suits. Of course, he never forgets his hip-hop roots and will still wear the baggy pants and ringer tees as he pleases. It just depends in his mood and the situation.

Noodle is high-fashion and street fashion with a dash of punk. Fashion is just another form of art after all, and “fuck flattering” is definitely a guiding rule when she gets dressed in the mornings. She basically never wears dresses or skirts without pants or leggings for ease-of-movement reasons. She also never wears heels for the same reason. Likes to see how many different ways she can wear an article of clothing, like wearing a t-shirt as a skirt. She once put together an outfit that was nothing but scarves tied and tucked in various ways and looked fab as fuck.

2D was a total slogan-tee and jeans kinda dude for years, but has recently gotten into festival, hippie wear. He wears a lot of cut-off jeans with patches, flowing tank tops, and a lot of flower accessories. Really enjoying chokers as well. Getting into wearing more pink, since it goes well with his hair.

Murdoc is a gross old man who wears the same thing every day (black shirt of some kind and jeans) or nothing at all. Let’s be real with ourselves. But his biggest secret is that he’s been stealing some of Noodle’s oversized shirts to wear sometimes. Tell no one!

anonymous asked:

can u write one from josh's pov where he is madly in love with y/n but she's already got a boyfriend and he can't help but feel heartbroken knowing that josh is just always going to be y/n's best friend

authors note: all i could think when reading this prompt was Jim and Pam, so that’s kind of what I loosely based this off from. This is a longerish fic, hopefully what you were looking for.  Enjoy!

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

“Square up, Y/L/N, you’re going down.”

Josh hovered over your shoulder like a bug that just wouldn’t go away, muttering discouraging words into your ear, trying to distract you from the task at hand.  You had to admit he was doing a good job, because all you wanted to do was turn around and smack him, but you had to stay focused.  A bag of chips was on the line here.

You took a deep breath and pulled your arm back, nothing but sheer determination in your vision, and you let your paper airplane sail.  You watched as it flew through the air, coasting past the copier and fax machine, past the cluster of desks, past Josh’s airplane resting on the floor, until it hit the door to the break room and finally landed.

“Yes!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up in victory.  “I beat you by like four feet!”

Josh stares, stunned at how you managed to sail your paper airplane all the way across the office, but nonetheless, hands you over a dollar to get your bag of chips from the vending machines.

“You really should stop betting on things with me, I always win—“ you gloat, as you both make your way into the break room.

Josh leans against the vending machine, watching you select your favorite bag from the top row.  “No way, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”  

You laugh, shaking your head at Josh’s remark before opening your bag of chips and heading back to your desk.  

Josh watches you go, that familiar sinking feeling becoming prevalent in his stomach, just like every other time you walk away.  He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his right state of mind.  He loved the friendship you two shared, but sometimes he needed a minute to contain all the thoughts running through his head, otherwise his undying love for you might just slip out one of these days.

The hardest part of Josh’s day was at five o’clock, when your boyfriend would meet you at the door and walk out to the parking lot with you.  Josh would smile and wave goodbye, pretending like it didn’t burn every fiber of his being watching you lace your fingers with his and smile into his side as you exited the building.  Then, he’d slowly gather his things and head to his own car, wishing you were at his side.  

You and Josh had been friends ever since you started working in Columbus two years ago.  Two entire years, and Josh still swears it was the minute you walked in on your first day, a spot of dried toothpaste on your chin, that he fell completely in love with you.  

He spent that entire first week getting to know you, and the next planning out ways he could ask you out.  He’d never been more sure that he’d finally met the person he was meant to be with.  His soulmate, if you will.  Josh had been waiting in his car for your gray SUV to pull in one morning.   He planned on exiting at the same time as you, playing it off as a harmless coincidence, and then walking with you up to the third floor.  It was a cold December morning when he saw Lucas for the first time.  Then of course he didn’t know his name.  He knew the man as someone driving you to work, with broad shoulders and a trimmed beard.  He leaned over the center console and planted a kiss right on your lips before making a U-turn and exiting the parking lot.  Josh had let his head drop and made a beeline for the door, trying his best to ignore you calling his name and the gut-wrenching dread he felt.  

That was two years ago, and Josh still hadn’t moved on.  How could he when you sat only feet away from him?  Spreading your infectious laugh and always there to make him smile?  No, Josh hadn’t moved on.  Instead, he’d just learned to live with it.  He swallowed his feelings and instead focused on the friendship that you two shared, no matter how much it killed him inside.  It was always about more than friendship, and he knew it from the start. Even though that is what he loved most about you. Falling in love was quick, easy, inevitable. You would talk and laugh and be happy. If life is a series of moments, then it was those innocent instances that defined Josh for the longest time.

But falling also hurt.  You were his everything. And you were his best friend. You told each other everything, but he had to keep his biggest secret hidden from you.  On that first day, even if she didn’t remember it, he could see a future. Your future together. And for that split second he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to forget about the rest of the world and focus on you. But there were no messing this up. This was you, and it was really just complicated.

Josh sat in his car in the parking lot the next morning eating his breakfast and occasionally warming up his hands in front of the air vents. Just as he was finishing off his bagel, there was a soft knock on his window. It took him half a second to realize it was you; your coat was zipped up to your chin and your beige scarf covered most of your face. Josh quickly got out of his car and you both exchanged hellos in the still-dark parking lot.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks, shivering a little in the cold winter air.

“Lucas and I kind of had another spat last night and I wanted to get out before he woke up…" you trail off. Josh’s jaw clenches at the mention of his name.  ”What about you?“

“One of my biggest clients is a morning person, if I don’t call him by 8am sharp, his account is as good as closed, so I wanted to get here early and go over his file.”

“So you got here before the sunrise?”

“It’s a big file,” Josh says with a smile.

You chuckle and then looked over to the far end of the parking lot, “Hey, come with me.”

It was one of those commands Josh didn’t have to hear twice. He followed you, his hand in his pockets and his nose buried in his own scarf. You both walked over to the edge of the lot, and you stepped up on the curb, standing on your tip-toes. Josh furrowed his eyebrows.

“Come on, Josh,” you say playfully.

He laughed nervously before following your actions. He faced the direction you were facing and saw that through the fence there was a perfect view of the distance hills on the east side of town. The sky was thick and dark blue and the hills looked outlined with gold. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the buildings of Columbus went from grays to a bright mixture of yellows and oranges.

Josh glanced over at you as you looked at the view, smiling wide, the sun hitting your eyes. Josh could never quite tell, your eyes always looked hazel and sadly dull in the florescent light of the office, but for the first time his saw their true color: a brilliant green with splashes of brown near the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah, really is,” Josh says, still looking straight at you.

“We should go inside,” you said quietly, noticing his insistent stare from your corner view.  “I’m freezing.”

Josh nods, eyes lingering on the view a moment longer before he trails behind you inside the building.  

It’s habit, more than anything else, that has Josh lingering in the break room when he sees the tired lines in your face three days later. It’s instinct, to ask you if you want to talk. To take a seat at the table before he has a chance to consider the implications of what he’s just offered.

Besides, first and foremost, he’s your friend.

More than anything, he wants you to be happy.  And if there’s something he can do to ease the tension in your shoulders, to watch the frustrated crease in your brow fade back into familiar calm, then he will. Of course he will.

Being the one to elicit a smile from you is worth the cost of his own discomfort.

Patiently, he listens to your perspective on the misunderstanding between yourself and Lucas, he tries to detach himself from the situation enough to give you the sort of sincere and thoughtful advice he’d extend to anyone in that position. But he doesn’t want your thanks — your gratitude that much worse because it’s genuine.  

Josh had served as the backboard for you since he met you.  He was always around to listen.  Maybe he was imagining it, but it seemed like you and Lucas had been fighting more and more lately.  He hated seeing you upset on a daily basis in the break room and he tried to ignore the sliver of hope he felt inside.  

Apparently last night had been bad.  Josh can tell the minute he sees your puffy eyes and quivering lip.  

“What happened?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shrug, trying to be brave, but the tears fall anyway.  “He threw a glass at the wall next to me last night.  He was drunk… muttering about how he thought I was cheating on him.”

“Oh my god—“ Josh said, gut dropping as he imagined how scared you must have been in that moment.

“I don’t think he’d ever hurt me or anything.  But I was scared.”

“What’d you do?” he asks, taking the seat at the table across from you.

You curled your hands around your mug of coffee, “I left.  Went to my moms.  I think it’s over.  I mean, it has to be, right?”

Josh wants to blurt out a gigantic yes, but instead he empathetically furrows his brows and nods softly, “I definitely don’t like the idea of you being scared.” And without thinking, he reaches his hand across the table and touches yours softly.  

Your eyes shoot down to where your hands touch, all of a sudden you feel so nervous.  You pull back and drag your coffee mug to your chest.  

“I should get back to work.”

Josh has a hard time focusing the rest of the day.  It was over.  You said that.  It was over and maybe, just maybe, Josh had a chance here.  He’d be your friend first, of course.  Just like it’d always had been.  He wouldn’t rush you.  But now he had a chance to prove how much you truly meant to him.  He was elated.  Lighter and more hopeful than he’d felt in months.  

It all comes crashing down with the sound of the office door opening and closing. Josh’s fists clench at his side the minute he sees Lucas walk through the doors.  He’s ready to get up and ward him off if necessary; the idea of him yelling at you makes his blood boil.  But he watches from his desk instead, as Lucas makes his way to you, gently tapping your shoulder and whispering something in your ear.  

Your initial reaction is wide eyes, filled with what is that?  Fear?  It fades quickly, morphs into anger.  Then sympathy.  Josh watches as you grab your coat from the back of your chair and willingly follow him up to reception.  You mutter something to the secretary before continuing out the door without looking back.  

“He apologized, and he really was just so sincere.  I think he really meant it.”

Josh nods and takes another swig of coffee, which was lukewarm by now.  He cringes.  

“Sounds it,” he says dully.  Not even he can fake enhance the amount of enthusiasm in his voice.  

“What’s that?” you ask, offended by his dull tone.

He looks at you and raises an eyebrow.  Disappointment and anger and frustration all boiling under the surface of his skin after seeing you and Lucas kissing in the parking lot again this morning, so he decides for the first time in a long time; to be honest.

“No, it’s just I’ve heard all of this before.  It gets a bit old is all.”

“It gets a bit old?” you repeat, stunned by his response.

“Yeah you and Lucas.  He does something nasty, you break up or contemplate breaking up, then he apologizes with roses or chocolates or what was it this time?  Perfume?  Same story, different version.  Can’t blame me for getting bored with it.”

And then Josh walks straight out of the break room and back to his desk, where there’s a light flashing on his phone.  He presses the button and pulls up a chair to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Josh, it’s Craig from Corporate.  Meant to catch you before lunch, but I wanted to talk to you about a job opening here in Detroit.  It’d be a promotion for you.  More pay, more duties, all that.  Give me a call back with the details if you’re interested.  Thanks.”

It ended in the parking lot, the blooming seed of happiness that lived deep in his chest was fading, right next to his heart.  It was his best friend, his sole support, the girl of his life who made everything just a little bit better. It was you standing there, your jaw dropping with surprise and Josh with his entire heart and soul on the line.

It was Josh that changed the game. This game of yours, the little dance of just barely something more than friends.  He had nothing left to lose, because he couldn’t do it anymore.  So he gave himself an ultimatum.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she turns you down, you can accept the job.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she loves you back, you can live happily ever after.  

The words hang thickly in the air.  “I love you, Y/N.  I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

You stand still in your spot, eyes watering and eyebrows furrowed with confusion and surprise.  And for a quick second, Josh thinks you might say it back.  But then you drop your clenched fist to your side and you let out a loud, inconvenient sigh and it’s amazing how quick his gut picks up on the rejection.  It drops as you start muttering about how “you can’t” and  “you have a boyfriend.”

“Listen, Josh—“

But that’s all. Because Josh clearly doesn’t want to listen. His hands wrap around you and Lucas has never held you like you’re this precious.  It’s gentle  and firm, warm and large, pulling you softly towards him, gathering you, even as his mouth falls against yours, just as lightly, just a hint of pressure and you feel so small against him, against this unspoken message that he loves you. And it’s powerful.

“Josh—“ you say, finally pulling back.  

He freezes, jerks away, his hands still gentle, even as his eyes are screaming, those big brown eyes that love you. “You’re really going to be with him?”

Your ‘yes’ is locked into your throat and tears fill your eyes, but somehow you can’t look away as you destroys your best friend from the inside out. There are a million reasons to stay with Lucas and only one to leave him, because you maybe love Josh, but you maybe don’t love Josh, and it’s that thought that makes you nod.  

“Okay.”

You can’t blame him when he walks away, when he holds on to your hands for as long as possible, even as he can’t look you in the eyes. You want him to look at you. You want him to fight for you, but you know that’s unfair to ask him. But you don’t want to lose him and you somehow know you’re going to and you need him to understand, but before you know it… he’s gone.

It’s not as if you’ve never seen his desk without him sitting there, because of course you have. He’s stayed home sick, made occasional use of his vacation days, gone on client calls — you know what the office looks like when the shape of him is missing, it’s the permanence of it that hurts.  

As you settle in that first day of Josh’s absence, you hang your coat up and take a seat, You let yourself miss him as a coworker and as a best friend and that’s it. Work will be work, with or without Josh Dun.

But that’s a lie, because of course it hurts like hell.

Each day it’s harder, when it starts to sink in that this doesn’t mean a handful of days out recovering from the flu or visiting his family, but that there is a new and permanent Josh-sized hole in the fabric of you. So you play sudoku to avoid noticing the absence of his voice and

you doodle in notebook margins during conference room meetings to ignore all the jokes he can’t whisper in your ear.  

As the day goes on, regret floods deeper within you.  You always knew Josh was your best friend.  But you probably always always knew he was more than that too.  You just wished you’d been brave enough to see that.

That night you break up with Lucas.  This time, there’s no yelling or screaming or wine glasses thrown against the wall.  It’s respectable and understood that they are just not meant to be.  You thought there’d be a Lucas-sized hole inside of you now too, but there’s not.  Instead, it just makes room for Josh’s hole to grow bigger.  

It’s twenty past five and you’ve got your coat on and bag in hand when the phone rings.

You debate for a moment about answering it — after all, technically you shouldn’t even still be here.

But, well, you are still there, so it’s equal parts obligation and impulse that has you reaching for the handset and saying, “Hello?” with a slightly tired edge in your tone.

“Uh, hey.”

And — oh, oh.

“Oh my god.”

“Hi.”

“Um… Hi.”

Witty. Clever. Exactly the kind of thing you’d imagined herself saying to Josh when you finally reconnected after too-many-weeks of silence.

“Sorry, I needed a number from Mark.  It’s a co-client thing—”

“Oh.”

“—and I was just gonna leave a voicemail, because I didn’t think anyone would be there.”

It’s hard not to wonder if Josh had been making an open effort to avoid you on purpose, if he’d waited to call until twenty past five because you were supposed to be gone and he’s supposed to get an machine instead.  

“Why are you still there?”

“I had to work late.” And then, because that sounds flimsy, goes on. “Well I didn’t have to, but there were just some open files I wanted to finish up.”

“Wow,” he says, the faint tone of amusement in his voice.  “Wow, they’ve really changed you Y/L/N.  Going above and beyond, that’s not you.”

And you’re smiling—because it’s Josh and you aren’t sure your face is capable of behaving any other way around him—but there’s something nervous and careful in the lines of your expression that isn’t usually there. You’ve missed him, but knows that a subtle shift occurred in their relationship that can’t be undone, that things might never be as easy as they once were.

“Everything else is pretty much the same here.” Except—god, no—of course it isn’t.

“Oh…good.”

You change up your previous statement. “A little different.” Because you need him to understand that even though the routines of the office cycle on, no part of that environment could ever be the same to you without him there. Then you ask, “what time is it there?”

“…What time is it here?” He pauses, something uncertain and unsure in his tone. “Um, we’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“How far apart did you think we were?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, embarrassed. “It feels really far.” And you can hear his thoughtful, quiet agreement that suggests it’s more than just the miles dividing Columbus and Detroit that’s currently between them.

It took you until the next morning to get your act together.  You were walking into the building, the sun rising across the lot, and you felt it.  A crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket.  You gripped it in your fist before pulling it out, unwrapping the paper and trying to make out the scrubbed words.

You can’t get rid of me that easy.” It was a note from Josh.  One from back before the airplane competition, where they’d bet on how many green M&M’s were in the jar resting on reception.  You’d beat him easily, leaving time to gloat on how he should just give up on betting against you, cause you always won, just like you did every other time you two bet on something.  Josh had left the note on your desk with the soda you’d won.  

You could feel the tears surfacing, blurring your vision as you turned in your spot and starting walking all the way back to your car.  You opened the note up again after you’d sat in the driver’s seat, unfolding the paper and running your hands over Josh’s scratchy scrawl and letting yourself feel what was long overdue.  It all floods in at once.  The despair, the guilt, the regret.  But also the love and admiration and memories of laughing, smiling, feeling lighter than ever around him.  

You didn’t think twice as you flicked your blinker on to turn onto the highway headed towards Detroit.

The city was so close down the road, you could see the outline of hazy buildings out of the window.  You stared diligently ahead, running through what you were going to exactly say to Josh when the time came.  But before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot of the Detroit branch, sliding into the spot beside Josh’s car as an automatic reflex, and you still had no idea what you were doing, what you would say. Yet your feet trudged up to the front door, almost like a little girl who knew that you had to admit to your mother that you’d smashed her favorite vase, because it had to be done, you just weren’t quite ready for the aftermath. There were no obstacles now.  No Lucas or unacknowledged feelings and you were sure that’s what scared you the most. What if, after all this time, Josh had just had enough?  What if you just weren’t meant to be?

You walked right up to reception, waiting until the woman hung up the phone before telling her you were here to see Josh.

“Y/N?” his familiar voice rings through the air and when you look over, you can see him taking off his headset and standing up from his desk.  “What are you doing here?” There’s a hint of curiosity and surprise and maybe even a little excitement in his voice.  

You couldn’t tell him here.  You had to go somewhere more private.  

“Could we um, talk?” you say quietly, offering him the slightest smile even amidst your nerves.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me just grab my coat—“ he motions back towards his desk with his thumb, where you see his familiar dark blue fabric hanging off from the back of his chair.  You wait patiently with your arms crossed across your chest, bouncing on the backs of your heels.

“All set?” he says, hand buried deep within his pockets.

You walk down to the parking lot in silence, still pondering what you were going to say to Josh in your head.  

“How’s Detroit?” you asked after thanking him for holding the door open for you.  You wanted to stall as long as possible.

Josh chuckles, “Common, Y/N.  You didn’t drive three and a half hours to Detroit to ask me how the city is.”

You blush, of course you didn’t.  But you still didn’t know what to say to him.  To Josh.  The man you loved, completely and wholly, with everything inside of you.

You could feel your cheeks growing hot as you thought about what you were about to admit.  You’d had so much courage built up inside of you before, but now, it was quickly draining.  You had to say it before you were completely empty.

“I miss you.”

Your heart’s still thumping like crazy, banging against your ribs, and you’re not entirely sure what you just said.

And Josh didn’t say anything back to you, but it wasn’t like you said all the stuff that you were thinking to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you continue, your voice wavering.

Josh shakes his head. “I’m okay.“

You nod. There’s a silence, long enough that you worry you’re not going to be able to say it all and nothing will happen and you’ll go back to being scared and afraid. You want to be someone who says what they feel.

“It’s just— the office isn’t the same and… I miss you.  I miss you a lot, Josh. I miss my best friend.”

“It can’t be that way again, Y/N,” he says. “I wasn’t your best friend. I was in love with you.”

“We could be friends now. Just go back to the way things were—“ you weren’t sure why you were burying your feelings again, but it was instinctual.  

"No,” he says. He’s standing so still, arms at his sides.  ”What you miss – that wasn’t friends. That was us… that was me being something more. All the time. And I can’t do that anymore.  It hurt too much.”

You feel kind of sick, but a little voice in the back of your head says you should be grateful for whatever happened, because it was better than being endlessly, endlessly quiet.

“Then I’m really sorry,” you say at last. “Because I miss that.”

“What do you think that means?” he asks, and there’s a little heat in his voice. “What do you think you’re really missing?”

This morning you would have undoubtedly ducked your head and avoided the question, or flat-out lied. Now though, you had driven three and a half hours and you’re standing in front of Josh, far enough away that you have to speak up for him to hear.

“I know what it means,” you say quietly. “And you know.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. You’ve made it clear you only wanted to be friends.”

“I don’t think I’ve made anything clear,” you say, and for the first time you have the urge to move closer, speak more softly, because this is the hard part, the thing you couldn’t say in front of everyone else. “I should have been honest a long time ago, and I know that, but I couldn’t until I knew what I wanted.”

“Do you?” he asks after a moment, his voice low. “Know?”

You take a big breath, letting the oxygen go to your head, willing back the feeling you had just before you ran up to the third floor. “I want to feel the way I did when I was with you, back before you moved to Detroit.  I don’t want to be lonely, and I want to redo the past two years except it made me figure out a lot of things about myself, so I don’t know. I want stuff to be easy, Josh, and it isn’t, and I thought that maybe if we could be friends again I could have one thing in my life that made me happy, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whips against you, making you shiver.

“Why can’t you say it?” he asks.

“Would anything change if I did?”

“I don’t know, everything changed when I said it.”

“Fuck it,” you say, the cold air filling your lungs, “I love you.  I have loved you but I was with Lucas and I was afraid and I didn’t know it.  And I’m still afraid, but I know it now.”

You stare and wait for his reaction, hoping with everything inside of you that you weren’t too late.  But the look on Josh’s face, the sad, almost pitiful stare, gave you reason to believe that you were.

And your courage drained for good.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping a tear falling down your cheek, “I shouldn’t have come.  I’m gonna get going.  It was nice to see you,” you mumble before turning away and heading towards your car.

When Josh saw you turn away, it was as if lightning struck him. All he could see was your back, stiff and tense, walking back towards your car, parked near his, and suddenly he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how it had come to this. The last several months had turned you both into people he didn’t even recognize anymore, and he blamed himself.

You were all he ever wanted. You were the one he saw in his dreams and imagined in his fantasies for years on end, and he had you. It was supposed to be forever, but all he seemed to do anymore was hurt you. The Josh from six weeks ago would absolutely kill him for that. The Josh from six weeks ago would feel about him like he used to feel about Lucas. Lucas took you for granted, and didn’t consider your feelings.

Like Josh was doing now.

He sprinted toward you, his long legs reaching yours in just a couple of long strides, and he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t stop to explain. He simply wrapped his arms all the way around you, and held you close. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t reciprocate immediately. He pulled you closer. He buried his face in your hair, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to breathe you in. He remembered the electric shock of when you first met (for him, anyway), how it felt to love you and not be able to have you.  He couldn’t let himself let it slip away.

You finally wrapped your arms around him, and he felt a small shudder go through you. You pulled back and he could see your face crumple just before you took his face in both hands and kissed him. When you parted, you were both smiling as said, “I love you” in unison.  He hugged her so tightly he almost picked you up off from the ground.

Friday Nights - Peter Parker x Reader imagine

Title: Friday Nights
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: You’ve started liking Peter as more than just a friend.
Word Count: 751
Warning: Lots of fluff and kissing.
A/N: Written for the 2 anons I got - ‘could you do a Peter imagine with “do you want to kiss as bad as i do right now?"’ and ‘could you do a Peter imagine with "can I kiss you?"’. This is also written a couple of years after you found out that Peter is Spiderman, so he’s like 17. I’m really sorry if this sucks, I kinda struggled with this one! 

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Deepest Darkest Secret

HELLO FRIENDS GET PUMPED I’VE BEEN WORKING ON SOMETHING

This is an eighth year AU, and it’s going to have around 20 chapters. It’s based on this little thing I wrote for FEDA and promised to continue. Also posted on AO3 here

Soulmate AU where you’re born knowing your soulmate’s biggest secret.


Chapter 1. Baz.

My soulmate is the Insidious Humdrum.

I’ve known this since before I was old enough to know what the Insidious Humdrum was. At first I thought I was actually going to fall in love with the Insidious Humdrum, which confused the hell out of me. Is it even human? (Then again, I’m not human, either.) How could I fall in love with a supervillain?

I don’t think anyone in the World of Mages actually understands what the Humdrum is. In the break before eighth year, I sat in on a series of Old Family meetings, each more useless than the last. Some of them are about strategy and the Mage. Fiona keeps insisting that I have to know things about Snow that we can use to our advantage.

‘We avoid each other as much as we can,’ I keep telling her. ‘He fell asleep on his Latin homework at least six times last year. That’s all I’ve got.’

It’s a lie. Fiona’s right; I do know things about Snow. Everyone knows their soulmate’s deepest secret, even if their soulmate doesn’t know it themselves. His future biggest secret is the darkest, most important one, and the one that the least number of people will ever know.

It makes sense that it’s him. I’ve been hopelessly in love with him since fifth year and it already feels like a lifetime. He’s got his fingerprints all over my soul. It has to be him.

Not that I’ll ever admit it to my family. My love, my downfall, my biggest secret. (Bigger than the fact that I’m a vampire, because there are at least three adults who know about that, and I’m never telling anyone about Simon.)

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Petals for Scars

Title: Petals for Scars

Paring: Pynch (Adam/Ronan)

Rating: T

Summary:   “The flowers are supposed to bloom when you’re ready to fall in love, so he waits every day to watch them wither on his wrist, decaying into the dead thing he’s become.” Soulmate AU.

A/N: Alright, first Raven Cycle fic! (First published fic in a while, actually). It had to be Pynch of course. Also, my first time writing a soulmate AU. This is one I found particularly interesting: where everyone is born with a tattoo of a closed flower bud and it only blooms when you’re emotionally ready to fall in love. I’m trying out a bit of a different style here so I hope you guys like this and a big thanks to those who read this over and gave me the confidence to publish it!

AO3 FFN

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Bang Yongguk Scenario: Mafia AU

A/N: Well hello there! So I have the second instalment to my mafia AU oneshot collection. It is Yongguk’s turn so I hoe you enjoy! 

Member Profile

Prologue

Himchan Mafia AU

Daehyun Mafia AU

Youngjae Mafia AU

Jongup Mafia AU

Zelo Mafia AU

Yongguk needed a break form his noisy members as he signed. He really wanted a cigarette but Himchan would shoot him faster that he could blink. So his only relaxant was coffee. He cursed Himchan’s doctor side as he had forced all the members to half the amount of alcohol drinking too.

Yongguk had walked into the café and while thinking about what drink he would like he had bumped into you. You had managed to save your own drink as he calmly apologized. You had smiled at him and it had piqued his interest. As he left, without a drink as he had forgot after the sight of you, he felt himself smirking. Just as he walks out he feels a familiar presence behind him.

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anonymous asked:

scenario: kirishima brings bakugou home 1 day and all is fine and dandy except bakugou quickly realises nobody in Kiri's family has red hair.

They’re eating dinner when the realization dawns on Bakugou. Mom, dad, siblings… they all look just like Kirishima, but…… they are not redheads. And, Bakugou’s a little flabbergasted.

When he confronts Kirishima about it when they’re alone later that night, he expects Kirishima to be flustered or embarrassed, like his biggest secret is out. But instead, Kirishima laughs, and between his giggles, he manages to gasp out, “You thought it was natural?This whole time?? What Japanese person has naturally red hair???”

Bakugou’s Japanese too, and he’s a blond, but he’s so stunned that he says nothing.

Pansexual Lee Jordan Headcanons

Day 2 of @potterprideweek: LGBT+ youth


  • 7 year old Lee blushing beet root red whenever his mum brings him to the park and they meet up with her friend and her son Miguel who’s Lee’s age and has pretty blonde hair that Lee likes to play with and run his fingers through.
  • Lee and Miguel being best friends for years and holding hands in the park and giggling and climbing to the top on top of the roof of the clubhouse to trade sweets and stories.
  • Miguel falling off that roof one day and Lee jumping down to help him and crying not being he twisted his own ankle jumping down but because Miguel hurt his arm and was upset.
  • Lee feeling guilty for not being able to tell Miguel his biggest secret because his parents tell him Miguel won’t be able to understand because he was a muggle.
  • 11 year old Lee having his first massive fight with his parents, saying he doesn’t want to go to Hogwarts, he wants to stay with Miguel instead.
  • Lee and Miguel having a sleepover two nights before Lee has to leave and they eat junk food and tell each other they’ll miss the other and they share a chaste kiss before they fall asleep that the next day neither of them talk about because neither are sure if it was just a dream or if it actually happened.
  • Lee getting on the train at Platform nine and three quarters and feeling sick with nerves, he finds a compartment on his own at first but soon is joined by two beautiful black girls and two identical pasty boys with bright ginger hair.
  • By the time the train arrives in Hogwarts, Lee has eaten his body weight in treats from the trolley and has made four new friends, Angelina, Alicia, Fred and George.
  • It’s not until he’s 14 that he realises just how good looking everyone at Hogwarts is.
  • Really, it’s ridiculous how gorgeous all the students are.
  • The girls are all pretty, the boys are all handsome and the students who identify as non-binary or gender-fluid are all beautiful and gorgeous and it’s honestly unfair because how is Lee supposed to concentrate on studying in the library when that cute sixth year girl with the curly hair keeps biting her lip across from him and the Slytherin boy in his year won’t stop stretching his legs at the table across from him.
  • One night he and the twins sneak into the kitchens, they’re digging into this delicious cake the house elves had left over when Lee tells them that he’s been doing some research in the library about liking different people and how he really doesn’t think he’s straight.
  • Fred and George stop eating and look at him calmly and ask him if he knows what sexuality he thinks he might be.
  • Lee shrugs and says he thinks he’s probably pansexual.
  • Fred and George smile brightly and clap him on the back and say that’s great, they’re proud of him and they love him no matter what.
  • It’s only when he takes on the role of commentator for the quidditch matches that he’s 100% sure of his pansexuality.
  • Lee tries to focus on the game and the fouls made but to do so he’s to watch every single player’s movements and that’s a little difficult when he’s attracted to a lot of them.
  • But he learns to cover it up by calling out every foul he sees loud and clear and shouting at the players instead of recounting their movements to the audience until it becomes natural for him to do so.
  • He receives a long telling off from McGonagall for his loud, unnecessary boisterous behaviour but his method works to keep his focus on the game.
  • At 15 he and Alicia go on a few dates and it’s nice and sweet and they kiss a few times which was really good but then they decide they’re better off being friends.
  • Also Lee noticed the way she looked at Katie Bell and knew he wasn’t the one for Alicia.
  • He dated a few more people and fell hard for a non-binary Hufflepuff named Adam when they were in sixth year. They went to the yule ball together and Lee thought Adam was the best person in the world.
  • Adam was kind, clever, they thought all of Lee and the twins’ pranks were complete genius and Lee was incredibly attracted to them in every way.
  • But something wasn’t quite right.
  • For a few weeks at the start of seventh year, Lee sort of shut down, he never cared about his sexuality, it never bothered him that he wasn’t straight, he knew he just liked people regardless of what they identified as but then why did it never feel quite right?
  • He and Miguel meet up every summer and Lee loves him but just as a friend now, he doesn’t want anything more and knows Miguel feels the same.
  • He still thinks Alicia, Angelina and loads of other girls at the school are beautiful and attractive but he doesn’t focus on them as much anymore
  • And Adam is perfect but Lee just knows that he’s not in love with them.  
  • After avoiding Adam for a while, they meet up again in the great hall during a free class and Lee tells them that they have to break up because it’s not fair on Adam to continue this relationship when Lee knows he can’t fall in love with them.
  • Adam smiles and says they understand and they knew Lee never could love them but they just wanted to enjoy their relationship while it lasted.
  • Lee frowned and asked how Adam knew he could never fall in love with them.
  • Adam patted his hand gently and said, “Because it’s obvious you’re in love with Fred Weasley.”
  • Lee’s body stiffened, his face went pale and every nerve in his body was screaming at him to deny it, to scoff and laugh at how preposterous the idea was.
  • But then Lee remembers the spark in his fingertips every time his hand brushes against Fred’s, how it always means so much more to him when Fred laughs at his jokes than anyone else in the world and how the other day when Fred brushed the hair out of Lee’s eyes, Lee couldn’t understand why his heart raced so much faster and harder than whenever he was with Adam or anyone else over the past few years.
  • “I’m sorry” Lee said softly and honestly, feeling Adam deserved an apology, “I didn’t…I swear I never realised…”
  • Adam smiled and kissed Lee’s cheek, “Don’t worry about it” they said genuinely and stood up from the table, “For what it’s worth, I think Fred feels the same.”
  • Lee never got a chance to ask Fred whether he did return his feelings or not because over the next few months they were all just too busy.
  • Umbridge, the tyrant was raining hell onto all of them, Lee, Fred and George joined the D.A. and Lee helped them with their new business and all the products they made and sold to fellow students.
  • One night after winter break, Lee and Fred were lying on Fred’s bed, George and their other dorm-mates fast asleep while  they were planning how best to slip one of their latest inventions into Umbridge’s tea when suddenly Fred stopped, looked at Lee for a long moment with those wide, unsure eyes and whispered,
  • “I like you Lee”
  • Lee’s heart caught in his throat, his stomach twisted with nerves, nausea or butterflies or possibly all three but he forced himself to say the words,
  • “I like you too.”
  • Fred broke out into a massive grin, bigger than any Lee thinks he has ever seen him wear and then in the blink of an eye, his soft lips were on Lee’s.
  • The kiss was like a lit match had been dropped into a flood of gasoline, every hair on Lee’s body stood up and tingled as he reached a hand around to slide into Fred’s hair and pulled him closer.
  • It was the giddy feeling of running his fingers through Miguel’s hair, it was the familiarity of spending time with Alicia, it was the burning attraction that he felt whenever he saw someone attractive on the quidditch pitch and it was the comfort and care he felt with Adam. But this time it was intensified by a million just by the added love that Lee felt for Fred and that he knew Fred for him.
  • So Lee was right, he was pansexual and he always had been but his heart had belonged to Fred for years, maybe ever since they first met, it just took him a long time to realise it.
“ HANDSY WITH THE WRONG TOZIER ? YIKES ! ”

REQUEST: 10 dólares for an imagine where you’re stan or richies sibling and Patrick decides to come over late at night kne day so he climbs thru a window thinking it was yours but it turns out that it’s your siblings and since it’s dark he like cuddles with them thinking it was you but then they wake up and before they can yell patrick like covers there mouth so they don’t scream but you heard noises coming from their room and went to check on them

AUTHORS NOTE: I would like my $10 in the form on an IT ticket thank u very much, also lots of u said richie so here goes trashmouth again and now I’m off to bed because 3am

A string of vile curse words drifted into the cool autumn air from Hockstetter’s chapped lips when the breeze hit him again, his slender hands hurriedly working on opening the heavy bedroom window to allow him to steal his unofficial girlfriend’s warmth with a few cuddles here and there. Swiftly pulling up the window, he squeezed his skinny body through and let himself fall on the carpet of her room with a soft thud, the pile of dirty clothes under the windowsill softening his fall for once. Straightening his lanky body out in the complete darkness of the room, her usual glimmer of light from her under her closet’s door absent for the night, he smugly grinned at the idea that she had actually cared enough to put the clothes there after he complained to her about how hard her floor was; how thoughtful of the girl, he proudly thought.

Blinking multiple times to adjust his eyes to the unusual darkness she was giving him tonight, his arms were outstretched in front of him to get a sense of the room, eager to feel the familiarity of the curves and dips of her body under him. The sound of soft snoring to his left shed light on where the bed was placed, it was away from it’s usual spot in the middle of her wall and pressed up against a corner instead. Shrugging the small change off as her just spontaneous remodeling, he licked his lips in anticipation and sauntered over to the bed, ready to wake Y/N up after getting a good few moments with her sleeping body.

Stopping once he reached the side of the bed, his long fingers curled around the hem of his t-shirt stained with bloodstains from the nose bleed Henry had given him earlier, he pulled the article of clothing off of his shivering body and tossed it off into the abyss of the room’s darkness. Leaving his jeans on for her to take off of him after he kicked off his heavy boots, he pinched the blanket and lifted it up enough to give him space to crawl under it and next to the curled up body. The warmth of the fuzzy blanket and the warmth of a body in the same bed quickly rid him of the shivering he had experienced earlier.

Wrapping a possessive arm around the poor victim’s waist and pulling their sleeping body back into his front with ease, his already hardening dick pressing up against the back of their leg, Patrick propped himself up on his elbow and brought his face down to the crook of their neck.

Patrick was sincerely enjoying how she had made it a habit to call him when she needed company and her parents were away in exchange for an easy blow job or more if he played his cards right for the night; his insensitive, demented, cloud of thoughts never allowing him to ever consider that he may actually feel for her like a regular boy his age would. It was a two-way relationship filled with sexual desire and lack of any real emotion that Y/F/N Tozier didn’t mind at the moment, her ever confident mind assuming that she could continue with ease of not attaining feelings if she reminded herself who he was — a boy with horrible intentions but a talent in making girls feel good when he was up for it.

His flushed lips pressed up against the skin of between their neck and jaw, slowly bringing consciousness back into the sleeping figure as his tongue left a slimy trail from the base of their jaw to their shoulder, making them writhe underneath Patrick’s hold as they began to realize they weren’t alone in their bed. Instead of taking the body struggling under his hold as a sign he was in the wrong bed, Patrick took it as encouragement to continue abusing the side of their neck with violent kisses and his hand slowly trailing down their side, stopping short when he felt the the smooth fabric that closely resembled the hem of his own boxers.

Dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion, noting that it wasn’t be familiar lace detail she usually wore for him, he removed his mouth from their neck and his hand from their side. Hastily sitting up on the bed, he grabbed onto their shoulders and pushed the unnamed person flat on their back, crawling to sit atop of them and letting his hands travel down the, disappointingly and drastically, flat chest of Richie Tozier as opposed to his sister’s fuller one.  

“Shit.” Patrick cursed when the realization dawned on him, sighing in annoyance that he wasted his energy on the wrong Tozier kid, pressing his hand against Richie’s mouth for when the shock finally registered in his system and he deemed a scream necessary. “Don’t scream or I’ll be in deep water with your sister, Tozier.”

“Get the fuck off me.” Richie’s vicious words were muffled underneath Patrick’s clammy palm, his own realization that the stranger in bed with him had been Hockstetter worse than his initial idea that it was a murderer as he struggled underneath the older boy.

“Do you not know how to listen —“

Patrick’s attempt at reprimanding the younger teen was cut short by the bright light illuminating the setting of one of Richie’s worst nightmares, his eyes free of glasses widening at the sight of Patrick Hockstetter’s bloodied face leering down at him as he straddled his torso. Shaky hands pushing against Patrick’s lean torso when the distraction sufficed him enough time, the lankier boy stumbled out of the bed and they both looked over at Richie’s open door where Y/N stood with a look screaming ‘annoyed’ aimed at Richie and the skin beneath her eyes was stained a deep reddish purple from having been woken up from her slumber.

“Richie, I fucking swear that you don’t know what letting people get their fucking beauty sleep means.” The eldest Tozier snapped at her younger brother, recalling the loud yet muffled talking and the thud from earlier that had interrupted her peaceful sleep across the hall, not realizing the third party in the room due to her sleepy state.

Richie scoffed in disbelief at the accusation thrown his way instead of the shirtless, bloody, teen watching from the sidelines with a sick grin on his face at the bickering siblings. Sitting up against his squeaky headboard, Richie shook his head at his sister and pointed an accusatory finger in Patrick’s direction, alerting her of his presence in the room. Lazily smiling over at where Patrick stood shirtless, she cocked an eyebrow at him when she noticed the blood on his face and the way Richie was feeling towards him.

“Well, I’m so sorry your asshole boyfriend decided to get all handsy and naked in my room and on my bed.”

That was not what she had expected her brother to say but as she recalled the scene when she had first walked in — Richie pushing a body off of him — she knew it probably wasn’t a stretch. Shooting Patrick a questioning glance as to what could posses him to do something like that, she looked over at her brother and opened her mouth to defend Patrick but he beat her to the punch.  

“Okay, Trashmouth. First of all, I’m not her boyfriend. Second of all, I’m not even naked, it’s just a shirt.” Her eager eyes were on Patrick as she watched him walk over to her, pausing where Richie’s doorframe was and leaning against it. “I could get fully naked if you wanted, though.” Patrick’s suggestive tone and boyish smirk made Richie want to puke, already disgusted at the memory of him cozying up next to him, his hand shamelessly trailing down his side.

“Gross.” Richie complained to his sister, crinkling his nose in disgust and turning away from the pair, not wanting to look the leering male in the eyes after what happened on his bed.

“Patrick.” Y/N swatted Patrick across his bare chest on Richie’s behalf, narrowing her eyes at him for his inappropriate comment, aware of how uncomfortable Richie had voiced feeling around him.

Patrick faked full offense at the insult and action with a faux frown, taking a hold of her smaller hand and pressing it up against his chest in a manner he knew to expect later tonight in the right bed. Taking her free hand and making it join the other on his chest, he shook his head like a child accused of doing something bad and leaned down as if he was going to whisper the world’s biggest secret, his normal tone of voice still being used when he spoke up.

“What? I could’ve sworn this little shit was getting into it more than I was, had an instant boner when he woke up and saw me shirtless in his bed.” Patrick lied, only earning a roll of the eyes from her and a subtle smile playing across her lips.

“That is such bullshit, Y/N.” Richie was quick to defend himself, astounded that Patrick would ever dream of accusing him of wanting what happened, knowing damn well that Richie would never touch him. “I wanna burn these stupid sheets now that he touched them, putting all his psycho germs on it.” He kicked at the sheets, recalling that Patrick was laying on them just a few minutes prior.

“Rich, be a little nice.” Y/N teased, her tone distracted as her attention was elsewhere instead of on Richie’s complaints against her fling.

Instead, she was staring up at the boy’s prominent cheekbones, thinking about how she wanted to place her gentle hands against their harsh edges and pull his face up to hers, stealing a sweet kiss she knew she didn’t deserve from him. Brushing her thumbs against the surprisingly soft skin of his chest and grinning up at him like a lovesick puppy, she felt him give her hands a gentle squeeze before he smugly looked over at Richie.

“Yeah, Rich, I’m a guest tonight so show some respect.”

“You’re actually letting him stay?” Richie asked, confused as to what the hell could have happened without him seeing that she had actually still wanted him here.

“It’s cold in my room?” Y/N weakly offered as her grand reason for the surprise visit, coming out more of a question than answer even though, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Get a freaking blanket, then! Here, I’ll even give you my favorite.” Richie spat, holding up his bunched up blanket for effect in a final act of desperation to get the sleazy brunette out of his home but to no avail.

“I promise he’ll just be in my room, no biggie.” Y/N shrugged, nodding up at Patrick to get him to agree.

“Don’t make promises on my behalf, princess.” Patrick let her needy hands drop in front of her, sharing one last knowing smirk with Richie and caressing the side of her face before happily heading towards the correct room across the hall, plopping on Y/N’s unmade bed as he waited for her to handle family business; something he didn’t let himself get used to.

“He’s not that bad.” She gushes, loving how his rough hand felt against her face in a way that she was sure showed a sense of emotion she hadn’t expected — almost making her reconsider the type of relationship she had situated herself with having with him. “Night, kiddo.” Y/N excused herself, closing the door to Richie’s room and going over to where her boy toy was.

New Girl Part Two (Peter Parker x Reader)

Originally posted by marveldaily

Word Count: 1068

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

AN: You can read part one here

“Uh sorry guys I gotta go, something came up.” Peter Parker rushed out his words, his eyes never leaving the screen of his phone. Michelle crosses her arms, leaning forward on the desk with a questioning look on her face. “Where do you go Parker? What are you hiding?” The boy seems taken aback by her question, his jaw dropping slightly as he tries to think of an answer that didn’t sound fake. Luckily he didn’t have to explain himself as Michelle relaxed from her interrogation, letting out a snort at Peter’s reaction. “Just kidding, I don’t care.”

Releasing a sigh the boy quickly grabbed his backpack, sending another quick glance down at his phone.Something wasn’t right but you didn’t feel the need to pressure him into telling you, you’d only known Michelle, Ned and Peter for little over a month now anyway. “Catch you guys later.” And with that Peter was practically running out the door, so caught up in whatever was going on that he didn’t notice that he dropped his phone on the way out. Noticing this you reached down retrieve it, informing Michelle and Ned that you were just going to chase after the clumsy boy and give him his phone back. 

With that you jogged out the door, hoping that he hadn’t gotten too far already. You caught no sign of the boy anywhere as you moved around the car park of the school. It wasn’t until you heard rustling and rumblings from a dark alleyway that you found Peter…changing into a Spider-man suit. Your eyes widened at the sight, clamping your hands over your mouth to stop any unwanted noises of shock from escaping. Slowly backing away from the scene before the boy could notice your presence you ran back towards the school telling yourself that what you saw wasn’t real…it couldn’t have been…could it?


The following day you still couldn’t seem to get the thought out of your head, that Peter Parker was also the web slinging crime fighting hero that had all of New York talking. Last night you tossed and turned in your sheets, contemplating whether or not you should confront him about this, and now you were. 

There he was, Peter Parker, your new friend walking to his next class without a care in the world. After taking a deep breath you started to hurriedly walk after Peter, eventually catching up to him. Without even uttering a word to him you quickly dragged him into the storage closet next to you, which was harder then you thought. Let’s just say that boy must be hiding some muscle.  

Slamming the door closed behind you, you turned to Peter who stared at you with a shocked expression.  "Y/N what the heck-“ Quickly cutting off his words by practically shoving your hands in his face, your mood turned serious as you confessed to the boy. "I know Peter." 

Obviously confused as to what on earth you were going on about, Peter’s eyebrows just furrowed as he looked at you as if you were crazy. Heck! Maybe you were. "What are you talking about?” Still keeping the serious tone of voice you crossed you arms. “I know your secret." 

Peter only rolled his eyes at this, shrugging his shoulders at your accusations."I don’t have any secret.” You couldn’t help but let out a snort at his claim. The boy who was a normal nerdy high school teen by day and secretly a crime fighting vigilantly who dresses in tights by night says he has no secrets? "Oh really. So it’s not a secret that you have powers and run around New York city in a spandex suit in your free time?”

Peter’s jaw almost dropped to the ground at your words, obviously not expecting you to know his biggest secret. “How did you-" 

"Yesterday. You left your phone behind and I chased after you to give it back. Only to discover you in a Spider-man suit pulling on a mask and swinging away on your webs. You really need to be more careful with where you put on that suit Parker. Oh and here’s your phone.” You pulled his phone out of your jacket pocket, Peter gratefully accepting it back. “Thanks. But how are you so….so calm about this?" 

That was almost laughable as last night after you found out you were anything but calm, but he didn’t need to know about your little breakdown. "Well I had all last night to think about it and I eventually got over it. It’s not like I’ve known you any longer than a week anyway." 

Something seemed to cross the boys mind as his expression became serious suddenly. His hand reached out to your shoulder as he spoke to you with great importance. "You aren’t gonna tell anyone are you? Because Ned is the only other person who knows and Michelle is only suspicious. I need this to be a secret, can I trust you to keep it?" 

"Don’t worry your secret is safe with me Spiderguy.” Sending the boy a reassuring smile you lightly laughed at the new nickname you made up. Peter smiled back at you, glad that you didn’t run off and tell people as soon as you discovered his secret. He wasn’t dull, he knew you could have sold this information to the media and got a ton of money for it, but instead you did the right thing. You kept it to yourself, you’d been a good friend even if you’d only know each other for a month. 

Then unexpectedly Peter embraced you in a hug that caused butterflies in your stomach at his touch. “Thank you for being so cool about this Y/N.” Taking in his scent you smiled into his shoulder. Oh crap! Where you developing feelings for Peter?! It was only then that you noticed how little space was around you. “As much as I appreciate this hug, might I remind you that we’re currently cramped in the storage closet." 

Pulling away from you he laughed at the situation. "Yeah we should probably get out of here.” Opening the door you held a hand out for him to go first, sending him a cheeky smile. "After you web boy.“ Rolling his eyes in annoyance at the names already he voiced his distaste for them. "Are these nicknames gonna be a thing?" 

"You betcha crime fighting spider!

@nostalgic-uncertaintyA fluffy Hannibal :3 as fluffy as he can be without it being weird that is XD maybe one in which reader is going out with Hannibal and it’s great until she walks in on him killing someone in his murder suit, she flips out, he drugs her and then what happens is up to you XD

Ugh, I love Hannibal waaaaaay more than I should considering, y’know, he’s a cannibalistic serial killer… I’m always nervous writing about Hannibal because I’m scared of characterising him incorrectly; feels like an insult to do that. But after months of procrastination, I just have to sit and write the thing that scares me. Hannibal wouldn’t mind, I hope. But anyways, uhm, @thranduilsperkybutt helped me out so much with this. If you don’t follow them, you really should. Everything they write is flawless and almost taken from canon. Thank you, lovely! ❤

Originally posted by sirenja-and-the-stag

Your shift was almost over, thankfully. You just had to print out some files and leave them in your outbox for Monday. 

As you were walking down the corridor to the printing room, you heard shuffling and a series of grunts coming from the Director’s office. Thinking it may have just been the Director working out in his office, as he kept a punching bag in the corner, you thought nothing of it, walking past without glancing inside and continuing on your errand.

As you reached the printer, scanning your aged ID card and carrying out your errand, you were initially unaware of the sudden lack of background noise. Indeed, as you began to notice the quiet ringing in your ears, the silence became deafening.

Something was wrong. There was ice in your gut and though you couldn’t say why, you felt compelled in equal measures to investigate and run away. There was no telling which of the two compulsions was stronger.

Slipping your heels off because really, they were death traps, you padded quietly down the corridor, back the way you came. You reached the office and there was very little sound, just quiet squelches and the odd squeak, as though two things very much attached to one another were now being ripped apart forcibly.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you curled your hand around the door frame and peered around, looking into the expanse of the office. All you saw at first glance was the sight of a familiar broad back, clad in a plastic suit, leaning over the desk chair, occasionally grunting with the physical exertion. 

There was a metallic tang in the air, and you gagged. You knew what was before you, what your five senses were registering, but you didn’t want to believe it. How could you believe it?

The imposing figure turned then, and your heart dropped into your stomach, bile rising up into your throat as you recognised the perpetrator. 

“H-Hannibal?”

His eyes… Never before had you seen your partner look at you, look at anyone, like that. He was, for lack of a better word, unfeeling. There was no emotion in his eyes. Hannibal Lecter had the eyes of a shark, now. He was facing you directly, his predatory eyes meeting yours unflinchingly. 

You didn’t recognise the man stood in front of you.

And the man behind him, he - your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat and all sense of logic left you immediately. The room was spinning and you couldn’t think or see straight. You felt the need to run, to run, far away and never once look back. 

His throat had been cut deeply, exposing white bone, which had an ugly contrast with the sheer amount of blood and the ravaged flesh around it. You knew what those grotesque noises had been - Hannibal, cutting and tearing into tissue, his hands grabbing and pulling apart sinew and bone, the crunches and pops, like a chicken leg when you twist the cartilage and break it apart. It had been raw, animalistic, and yet perfectly carried out… What Hannibal had done, he had done well, and you knew all at once that Hannibal had killed before.

When you’d walked in, interrupting him, Hannibal had been settling the head against the plush backrest of the desk chair, adding the finishing touches to his murder.

Your eyes didn’t want to leave the sight of the remains of the Director and yet you couldn’t look away fast enough. You struggled to breathe, to think straight, to realise that you should call for help, for back-up, to take Hannibal down.

As your eyes settled back on the man you no longer knew, your chest heaving, your starved lungs craving oxygen, a part of you instantly knew where you had seen that look before, in the eyes of those featured in your criminology textbooks. Hannibal’s eyes were cold, calculating, and you realised somewhere in your mind that you were the next puzzle that had to be solved. You hoped that your romantic ties to the man, the beast, before you, would be your grounds for mercy, but if he could do this to the Director, then there was no telling what he’d do to you.

He took a step towards you, his face unreadable, his eyes cold and foreboding, and then other step, careful and measured. Whereas before you had wanted nothing more than to run, now you found yourself quite rooted to the spot. Something flashed across his face so quickly that you couldn’t identify it. He sped up, never faltering, never falling, just quick and steady, and he reached you so quickly that you didn’t even have the time to scream.

There was a very sudden movement, something in his hand, and then a sharp sting in your neck, and you succumbed to the darkness which now clouded your vision.


 You came back into yourself slowly, your head fogged by whatever Hannibal had drugged you with, your movements slow. You didn’t know how you’d gotten here or even why you were here. 

You looked around the room, taking in your surroundings. Recognition pulsed through you - you’d spent several nights here before in the past, when Hannibal had been too much of a gentleman to let you drive home in the middle of the night. You relaxed then, only to jolt up as you realised belatedly that the door was effectively blocked by Hannibal leaning up against it, not a hair out of place.

He was watching you closely, the way that a lion watches a gazelle that is perilously close to the pride. You knew then that, one wrong move, and he’d likely kill you or sedate you again.  You were also at a crossroads - you could either… accept this side of Hannibal and stay alive, or you could make a run for it. You knew that the former option would likely result in your death, because Hannibal would just drag you right back to this place, and then you may never make it out alive.

During this, Hannibal had been watching you, closely. He could almost see the cogs turning in your mind as to which option you were likely to take, and he knew you well enough to know that a part of you had already chosen. The rest of you just had to come to terms with and accept it.

“Well, what are you going to do?” The way he said it made it seem like you had a choice here, but you’d had enough training to know that you really didn’t. 

You had no choice.

It was stay and live, or leave and die. Simple as that, with no possibility of compromise.

“Why did you drug me?” Your voice was quiet, scratchy, and Hannibal looked towards your bedside cabinet, which had a glass of water sat atop it. You took it and drank gratefully, swallowing as you waited for his answer. You hoped that he’d tell you the truth now that you had discovered his biggest and deadliest secret.

“You were being irrational. Now look at how calm you are.” 

You nodded carefully, your mind working overtime to try to rationalise and justify all of this. 

Hannibal lingered in the doorway for another moment or two before he made his way towards you, his body language open and relaxing, now. The man before you was your Hannibal, not the man in the Director’s office. You couldn’t help the fond smile that found its way onto your face as those familiar dark brown eyes met yours, filled with something you wanted to be warm affection. 

He smoothed your hair down with a single hand, which moved down to cup your chin. You leaned into his touch like a cat, and he smiled, leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. Then, Hannibal turned and left the room, shutting the door with a firm snap behind him.

This ended abruptly because I’ve spent two hours on this and I’ve had enough of it, plus I don’t think you’d really address the issue, it’d be one of those things that just never gets acknowledged. I could be wrong, though. Anyways, I had my mum read through this because I’m nervous about posting it. Hope you like it.

Part 2

2

“Now you know.” Norman says after guiding you down in the basement to show you his biggest secret. It shocked you and at the same time it doesn’t. That he has mental health issues and still sees his mother isn’t new for you. 

Or that people die around him… 

His surprised eyes meet yours as you take his hand and squeeze it. 

“Will you kill me?” You ask, looking back at the frozen body of his mother.

“No, never.” He promises.


You can send in requests for Bates Motel now.

Have You Ever Been in Love?

Request: hiii, I love your blog so much it’s amazing ahh! could you please write a one shot about peter being a hopeless romantic and liking you (you’re best friends) and you’re skeptical of whether love even exists and you hate clichés. he tries to flirt sometimes but he’s awkward and gets flustered easily so he slowly stops trying and you just go waiT bc day by day he’s become intertwined into your life and you need him by your side and you admit to yourself and him that you like him? angst and fluff?

Pairing: Peter Parker + Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Angst and fluff I guess!!

Notes: thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog :) I’m so sorry this took so long!! I’ve been crashing over finals and late Christmas shopping/decorating :(


“Another daisy from your neighbor’s garden? Whatever do I do to deserve such a romantic gesture from the one and only Peter Parker, anyway?”

This had been a weekly occurrence for the past four months. Peter would bring you a daisy, your favorite flower, from his neighbor’s backyard garden. The neighbor willingly cut Peter a flower for his best friend ever since the first time he saw Peter trying to steal one instead of just asking. Peter had confided in his neighbor, Mr. Calhoun, that he had embarrassingly (and unsuccessfully) tried to confess his feelings for you. Peter had eventually discovered that his nerves would never side with him on this – there was no way he’d ever be able to verbally communicate his new-found feelings for you without passing out.

“Peter?” He shook his head, clearing his mind before looking at you. You raised your eyebrows at him, shooting him a questioning look. “Are you okay?” He simply smiled at you, nodding his head. “Okay,” you said, not entirely believing him. “Are we still on for movies at mine tonight?”

“Yes! Of course, it’s a date!” As soon as the word left his mouth he inwardly cringed, him already feeling the faint tint on his cheeks as they burned under her gaze. “I mean – I uh, I just meant,” he shook his head and avoided your gaze as he searched for any other wording. He looked up when he heard your light laugh.

“It’s a date, Parker.” And with that you walked toward your last class of the day, not noticing the lingering gaze Peter casted your way, only diverting his attention when he heard the final bell ring.


Okay, so in Peter’s defense, falling in love with you was completely inevitable. You knew everything about him, and you knew it without him even needing to tell you. His biggest secret, the secret he kept from everyone to protect them, came out of you so casually one day when you were eating lunch at your guys’ favorite pizza parlor.

“So, how often do you go out as Spider-Man? Is it a nightly thing?” He remembers how much water he needed to drink in order to calm his choking.

You were just always there for him – his hand to hold, his date to the dance (even thought he knew you could go with anyone, you always settled for him) (“Peter, I’m not settling! I wanted to come with you!” “(Y/N), stop trying to make me feel better and come dance with me.”) You were his favorite good morning and his most beautiful goodnight.

“Peter? What is up with you today?”

He found himself shaking his head again, clearing his thoughts of you like he had been trying to do all day. “What?” You frowned at him slightly. “I’m sorry – no, really, that was the last time. What were you saying?”

You sighed before shaking your head, “never mind. It’s your turn to ask me a truth or dare.”

“Oh, okay. Truth or dare?” You pretended to think before nodding your head.

“Truth!”

“Have you ever been in love?” He tried to ignore the painful beating in his chest and how clammy his hands had gotten as he waited for you to answer.

“Hm, I don’t think so. What is love anyway?”

“Whatever you want it to be, I guess.” He tried to hide his disappointment, his heartrate slowing as his heard the girl he was in love with didn’t love him back – and never had.

“No, yeah I get that. But, what does that mean? I don’t know, love has always just been some so – what’s the word? Manufactured?”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, it seems materialistic – like it was created to sell what you’re supposed to feel. Love feels marketed to me.” You shrugged and looked at him.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“No!” He answered too quickly. Your eyebrows raised as your eyes widened a bit at his loud answer. “I mean – no, I don’t think I have either. I should get home, it’s getting late.”

“But… you live right next door. and it’s only eight fifteen.” You looked at him as he hurriedly collected his things.

“I have a lot of homework to catch up on, then I’m going to go patrol for an hour or so. I’ll see you tomorrow. Night!” Before you could even finish your ‘goodnight’, he was already out the door and shutting it behind him.

Weird, that was the only word that came to your mind.


“So, want to hang out today after school?” You and Peter were standing in front of his locker the next day, you had sensed a bit of tension when you walked to school today and couldn’t help but feel it was your fault – having totally dismantled the idea of love for him.

He smiled brightly before a quick look of sadness flashed his features. “I can’t,” he looked down, kicking his feet against the dirt. “I’ve got to meet Mr. Stark at the tower. He wanted to look at my suit.”

“Again? Didn’t he just upgrade it three days ago?”

“Um – yeah, but the upgrade has some defaults. Just a few touch ups, and he doesn’t want me to get hurt. So…”

“Right, I got it. Safety first.” You smiled as he returned it. “How about tomorrow? Pizza and studying?”

“I promised Bruce I’d help him with some lab work.” He still failed to look up at you, causing you to frown – not that he’d see it.

“Oh, okay… well, you just let me know when you’re free.” The bell rang, causing him to finally look up at you. He nodded before darting his way through the halls to his first class.


This happened the following week, Peter blowing you off and you accepting it, trying not to overthink it and you were doing well at it – until the day where Peter usually gave you your flower came and he walked into school empty handed.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but this week sucked for some reason. You didn’t realize how much you relied on Peter’s company. You missed him. Everything about him. You just really fucking missed him – his laugh after you’d tell a joke only he’d like, his smile whenever he attentively listened to you talk about your favorite book, the way his hand was always warm when you’d walk home together after school, the way his hair looked after waking up from a nap at either of your houses – you really fucking missed him.

“Peter?” You hadn’t realized you walked to his locker until you saw him standing in front of it and gathering his books to take home with him. He turned to look at you, a little surprised considering he’d been avoiding you for a good week.

“(Y/N)! Hey, what’s up?” His hands began to feel sweaty already, his heart beating faster than it’s been this week – just you standing there did things to him. This was the hardest week of his life. If you didn’t believe in love, how were you ever going to love him? He distanced himself from you in a pathetic attempt in trying to get over you. But, you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. I mean, that’s a thing, right? Like, that’s a saying? His thoughts were cut off when he felt his body being slammed against the lockers next to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you threw yourself at him – literally. His arms wrapped around your waist as he lifted you up a little, missing the warmth you gave him in every hug. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Peter,” you could hear your voice wavering slightly, not caring that you might cry in front of him, “I miss you, so much. I’m sorry – for whatever I did. Please forgive me.”

His grip on you tightened as he mentally scolded himself for making you feel like you both not talking was your fault. “You didn’t do anything. I was just – I was feeling,” his throat closed up as he squeezed his eyes shut, already the feeling of passing out overwhelming him as the thought of telling you he loved you crossed his mind.

“Peter, please tell me, you could tell me anything.”

“I don’t think I could tell you this.” He pulled away from you, drying your tears as your hands played with the ends of his hair, his cheeks flaring as you tugged at the ends a little bit.

But, it was weird. As Peter looked at you he saw you looking so vulnerable. Your eyes were wide and glassy, your lips were in a pout and he could have sworn that your eyes were drifting to every feature on his face and, god, he loved you – I mean, he really fucking loved you – and he couldn’t help but think I love her I love her I love her I love her until he wasn’t thinking it anymore and he just –

“I love you,” he felt you tense a little bit under his touch, “I love you and I have for the past two and a half years. I’m so sorry that this is how I’m telling you but holy shit I love you and I-.”

The next thing he felt was the rush of wind across his face as he was being pulled flush against you – your lips meeting and spreading a warmth through you that was warmer than his hands and his eyes and everything else about him, it felt safe and your mind went back to the week before when you and Peter were in your house playing truth or dare and you realized that if Peter were to ask you if you’d ever been in love, you would have honestly answered that you had been in love every moment you’d ever spent with your best friend – and, evidently, the love of your life.

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