i am sorry they are not interacting i will do it next time

So you want to interact with a fanfiction author

Great! I’m glad you want to reach out and start a conversation with the many creative, giving people who take time out of their busy lives to pen the stories that have captured your imagination. This post is going to cover leaving reviews, giving constructive criticism, and a few do’s and don’t’s.

If you like a fic, leave a review! You can do this a couple different ways.

Reblogging with tags. Every single creative person I know, be they writer or artist or musician, religiously stalks the tags when people reblog their work. Tags are an amazing way to communicate with a creative, especially if you’re shy about sending them a message directly or are afraid your comment will go unnoticed in their inbox.

Don’t know what to say in the tags? Think about the moment you decided you were going to reblog this piece instead of just hitting the “Like” button. Was it a particularly well done piece of dialogue? A description that made you feel like you were a part of the story instead of just reading it? A scenario you’d never considered before but changed the way you thought about [character a, situation b, or fandom c]? There’s a reason you’re taking time to reblog instead of like, so let them know why! Not every reblog needs to be a tag flail.

Alternatively, you can send the author a message. Fanmail if you’re shy and don’t want your adoration made public. Sometimes, if I don’t have time to tag a fic the way I want for whatever reason, I’ll like the piece and then shoot the author a fanmail or an ask telling them what I liked. This is also acceptable. Who doesn’t like getting mail? Crazy people who don’t use social media, that’s who.

Ok, but wait. What if you DON’T like what the author has done with their fic? What then? Yes, there are options.

Option #1: You ignore the fic. You neither like nor reblog the story. You and the author both move on with your lives. You may choose this option at any time. It is not necessary to let the author or anyone else know you have chosen this option.

Option #2: Ask the author why they chose to go that route. Politely. We’ll go over what that means later.

Option #3: Give constructive criticism. Now. Be careful with this one. Creatives are sensitive people. Make sure the author is open to it before you go barrelling into their ask box. If you message me, even on anon, saying, “Hey, I just read your latest fic and I have some concrit I wanted to run by you. Is that ok?” that is perfectly fine. If my answer is yes, go for it. If not, see Option #1.

What is concrit? Glad you asked.

This is concrit: “I totally get the vibe you were going for with that scene, but I was a little confused about the angles of the body parts. I don’t think you meant for them to be doing xyz there. It just took me out of the moment a little.”

This is NOT concrit: “You’re actually not very good at writing smut. You should probably just let [other person] write it and stick to what you’re good at. Which is not smut.”

What’s the difference? In the first one, you acknowledge what you think the author was going for. You explain what has you confused. You explain how you interpreted it. And then you leave a way for the author to contact you to respond to the concrit. You could be right. Maybe the author’s beta was having an off day and missed that awkward elbow maneuver. Maybe they don’t have a beta.  Or maybe it’s you that’s missed something. The second example is rude. This criticism is not designed to help the author. It is designed to tear them down and discourage them.

Some people adore concrit. Some people only want it before they publish a piece. Some don’t want it at all. None of these are wrong.

SIDE NOTE FOR AUTHORS: If you ask for concrit, do not be upset, offended, or throw a tantrum when someone sends you a respectful message. You did not want concrit. You wanted to ask for concrit and revel when no one sent you anything. Those are not the same things. Concrit, when given correctly, is designed to make you, the author, a better writer.

Ok, let’s go back to Option #2 now. Where you liked the piece overall, but the characters are acting a little wonky. Something’s not quite right, you think. You don’t really have any concrit, but you want to say something. Here’s what you can do, especially if the author is posting a work in progress.

Acceptable: “Hey! I just read the latest chapter of [amazing story you’ve been following since day one]. I’m enjoying the story so far, but this last one has me a little confused. Why did [character a] do [this]? I feel they would have done [that]. Am I missing something?”

Not acceptable: “Your latest chapter was a big disappointment. I feel like you just don’t know the characters anymore. There’s no way in hell [characters a and b] would be [doing xyz]. I’m sorry, I’m unfollowing you.”

In the first example, you let the author know you like their work. You are making an attempt to understand their vision. You give them a specific example of what’s bothering you. You acknowledge that there may be things coming that you aren’t aware of yet. In the second, you’re an asshat who is wasting bandwidth. The tone has shifted from commenting on the story to commenting on the author.

And here are a few general DO’s and DON’T’S:

DO tell an author you are excited to read the next chapter.

DON’T send an author a message saying only “update soon” less than five minutes after the new chapter was posted.

DO speculate on what’s going to happen next.

DON’T tell the author how to write their story.

DO ask your author how the writing process is going.

DON’T ask your author why they haven’t updated yet.

DO send your author love.

DON’T send your author anon hate.

THERE ARE NO PROFESSIONAL FANFICTION AUTHORS. (We’re not gonna talk about she-who-must-not-be-named of the fifty shade variety). Every single fic author has a job, family, friends, school, religion, other hobbies, or sleep equally vying for their attention. Respect their time, respect their work, respect them as human beings, and we’ll all get along fine.

King of Memes

Or, how Tony Found Out About Bucky’s Blog. 


Tony couldn’t seep. Sometimes he managed a few hours if he was tired enough, so usually he went to the gym and worked out until he was exhausted. Tonight, though, he found the gym already occupied: Barnes, with his hair tied up, working steadily at the heavy bag. Normally Tony would make an awkward comment and leave him to it, but instead he just heads for the opposite side of the gym. After setting up at one of the far treadmills, Tony worked his way to a easy run. Barnes was laying his fists rhythmically into the bag, and the quiet thumping was sort of strangely soothing. Between the running and the thumping, Tony slipped into a near-trancelike state.

 And then Barnes let out an ungodly howl, drew back his left fist, and slammed it straight through the heavy bag with a roar of, “DIE A THOUSAND BURNING DEATHS!”

Tony fell off the treadmill, scrambled to his feet, and booked it to the elevator.


kingofmemes posted:

holy shit you guys there was a spider on my punching bag !!! thanks to my many years of combat experience & martial arts training things are okay now

Posted at 4:47 AM, 37294 notes


Keep reading

So Something Happened at Phoenix Con

I’m not usually one to complain, or criticize, or speak out at all really. I’m one of those fans that just quietly sits in the corner and admires from afar, silently praising all the guys for what they do. But every now and again, someone does something that lights me up, and I’m off like a firecracker.

As I’m sure you’ve concluded, that happened recently.

I’m a Jared girl, but I love and respect all the actors equally. Respect being a keyword here. Phoenix con 2017 is going on now. As it so happens, that’s exactly where this incident took place. Yesterday. On the day mostly recognized as Misha’s day of the con.

Let’s all just agree that Misha is an incredible human okay? He’s actual such an incredible human that he borders on being a real life angel. He deserves all the good things in the world. Which is why I am particularly fired up because of what happened.

**Not naming names because this is not to bash anyone, just to draw attention to the fact that these are people with real, human emotions**

I’m going to summarize this the best I can because, honestly, the more I talk about it the angrier I get (and I’m not an angry person, this just really doesn’t sit well with me).

Long story short, there was a con-goer that had been to a con in the past and she had Misha sign her arm. Misha had said that if she still had the autograph on her arm the next time he saw her, he would buy her ice cream. No harm in that part. This is where things start getting…. Uncomfortable.

The girl then decided she was going to take Misha up on that (which, admit it, we would all try to keep Misha’s auto on us as long as we could, bet or not). But, instead of doing any number of options that would be considered safe and acceptable, she peeled off her skin, including the autograph, and preserved it.

Are you still with me? Hold on. I’m not done yet.

At Phoenix Con, she then adhered it back to her skin. Now, I’m not sure if she showed it to him during a panel, or ops, or autos, or where. But when she did show it to him, he told her to take it off.

**this is where I get seriously pissed**

So, she takes it off. AND FUCKING THROWS IT AT HIM.

This girl, who claims to love and respect Misha Collins throws a piece of her dry, dead, decaying skin at him. It lands in his lap and his handler has to come pick it up. She tries to excuse it by saying ‘it’s all in good fun’ and that he’s ‘used to her by now’, but let’s make a few things clear.

It’s all in good fun? I’m sorry, I have never once in my life have gone around throwing preserved skin at people for the fun of it. And I’ve asked some of my friends (the ones that wouldn’t call the cops on me for asking such a question) and they all said the same thing. I don’t care if you’re a celebrity or Mary Jane that lives next door, people don’t like having dead skin thrown on them. Especially a stranger’s skin.

Secondly, no matter how many times we meet them, they really don’t know us. They don’t know if you’ve got any diseases. They might not even recognize you, really. How many times have you seen someone at work over and over and over again but don’t really know them? I have. I’ll admit it. And you know what? It is my job to interact and build report with customers. And I’m not a celebrity – I don’t have millions of people begging for time with me.

I guess I made this post for a few reasons:

1.       Is my anger justified or misplaced? Taking into consideration that, while I’ve never met them (Pitt Con is so far away), I do love them like they’re family

2.       I’m open to opinions.

3.       I want to make a PSA that Jared, Jensen, and Misha – hell EVERYONE – are human. Don’t do something to them that you wouldn’t like having done to you. If you wouldn’t like have dead animals thrust into your hand, don’t make them hold one. If you wouldn’t like someone to throw decaying organs on you, don’t do it to them! You paid money for a ticket to the con. You did not pay money to abuse them.

I know I’m going to probably get hate for this, and to be honest, I really don’t care. If you think I’m right, great. I’m glad someone sees this from where I’m at and finds it just as wrong as I do. If you think I’m wrong then… well, you keep doing whatever you think is right. We’ll agree to disagree.

tl;dr – Don’t throw your decaying, preserved skin at Misha because he’s a human and it’s disgusting on so many levels. Show him respect. Show all of them respect. You know Misha is too kind to say anything about how uncomfortable it makes him, so just save everyone from being awkward, and save the fandom from feeling like we have to apologize for the actions of a single fan.

Wicked Game ~ Peter Parker, Part 2

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of heartbreak and not talking to Peter for 2 weeks causes the reader to not want to go to homecoming, but MJ forces her to go and the events that happen there may turn the worst 2 weeks to the best 2 weeks of her life.

Warnings: Minor swearing, angst, make out

Word count: 2,589… I got a little carried away whoops


It’s been two weeks since the incident on the rooftop. I haven’t talked to Peter since then. At this point, I could barely look at him without bursting into tears. The truth is beside Peter I didn’t have any friends besides Michelle. I didn’t exactly tell her what happened, but I’m pretty sure she figured out it had to do with Peter. Ignoring Peter wasn’t incredibly hard since we lived in the same apartment. Just because I didn’t want to talk didn’t mean he didn’t. For the first week, he followed me around trying to talk to me. Of course, I had headphones and turned them up as loud as my ears could handle so I couldn’t hear his voice. At least he took the hint and stopped trying to start a conversation. Now he just stares at me. All of the time. I swear he keeps playing this game. Doesn’t he get he already won? The more he looks at me the more my heart breaks. At this point I’m numb. Why the hell did I fall in love with him? I’m such a fool.

“Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Peter or are you just going to sit staring out the window looking like you’re about to cry everyday” I heard Michelle say nonchalantly.

“It’s a long story MJ” I replied

“Good thing this homework we are working on isn’t due tomorrow,” She said putting the books aside.

“I don’t really want t-”

“You can’t keep this to yourself any more Y/N I’m seriously getting worried, I’m not a doctor, but I know hiding something that made you this upset for too long isn’t smart,” she said interrupting me

“He broke my heart” I whispered, tears beginning to fill my eyes as my mind replayed the events of the worst night of my life.

“He doesn’t deserve you Y/N, if he doesn’t see how amazing you are he’s blind, and a fucking idiot to be honest, Do you want me to beat him up for you because I’m totally willing to do that because I hate assholes”

“Oh my god, thank you MJ” I laughed, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve laughed in the past 2 weeks. MJ may be very shy and unsocial, but once you get to know her she’s amazing. To be completely honest her attitude, in general, is enough to cheer me up. She’s so different and honestly an inspiration. I’m so grateful for her because without her I know this whole Peter thing would be much worse.

“I’ll beat him up in front of the whole school during homecoming” MJ giggled clenching her fists and holding them up like she was going to fight someone.

“You know I’m now going to homecoming, right”?

“Excuse me yes you are, you will not let Peter Parker ruin some of the best moments you’ll ever have in high school. You shouldn’t let him have that power over you, and even if he does don’t let him see that”

“But I can’t bear to see him dancing wi-”

“So don’t look at them, find your own boy to dance with, there will be tons of handsome lonely boys looking for a beautiful girl like you to dance with, you are a strong independent girl and you don’t need Peter Parker to make your life complete, and come on if I agreed to go to homecoming that says a lot since I’m probably the most unsocial person on the planet and I need a friend to come with me so I’m not alone, please come Y/N I’m practically on my knees begging you” MJ blurted. She was right, I can’t let Peter control my life.

“Fine I guess I’ll go but for you,” I said

“Yay! I’m so excited” she exclaimed giving me a hug, good thing I had bought a dress. I would have to wear my one from last years homecoming and to be honest, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t fit.

For the rest of the night, we ate ice cream and watched funny chick flicks and I forgot all about Peter until she had to leave. As much as I don’t want Peter to control my life, but I can’t bear to see Peter dancing with Liz. I think my heart would shatter into a million pieces. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and I looked at myself, I honestly looked like a mess. I had bags under my eyes, my eyes were puffy from crying so much. Why was I letting Peter Parker ruin my life? I should never let a boy ruin my life. I have so much more than Peter Parker. If this game was to break my heart. I shouldn’t let him win. I have to stop moping 24/7 and actually live. Even if I don’t have a date to homecoming it doesn’t mean I won’t find a lonely boy to dance with. After all, it’s completely possible to fall in love more than once. I’m not going to let Peter win. Somehow I managed to find some confidence. It’s time to be my old self again I thought walking from the bathroom. I walked into my room and jumped into my bed and swiftly pulled the covers over me. Tomorrow is a new day, a new me. No more crying over Peter Parker I thought as I drifted into a nice well-needed slumber.

————-

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock, scaring the shit out of me like it always does. I groaned turning off my alarm clock and getting up to walk to my closet to find clothes. Lately, i’ve been wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt to school every day, but that was going to change. I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a nice shirt and skipped to the bathroom.

“Why are you so cheerful today honey” I heard my mom say as I skipped past the kitchen to get to the bathroom.

“Homecoming is today, and you know how much I love to dance mom” I practically sung as I closed the bathroom door. Today I needed to show confidence. I needed Peter to know I wasn’t going to mope over him forever. I caught him staring at me countless times this week. I hope showing him I’m getting over him will make him jealous. Wait. no that’s not the point of this I mentally yelled at myself as I grabbed eyeliner and mascara. After I finished putting on makeup, I slipped on my clothes and grabbed my pair of black converse.

“You look cute today Y/N” my mom pointed out.

“Thanks, mom” I answering grabbing my backpack and giving my mom a kiss on the cheek.

“Your father and I aren’t going to be home for a couple of days, we have to go on a business trip, but make sure to send us pictures, I’m sorry we won’t be here,” she said, she obviously felt bad, but they did this all of the time.

“It’s fine” I lied as I walked out the door. A sigh left my mouth. I don’t know why they are always traveling I wish they could actually be home for one special event of mine. No wonder I’m closer to May than my parents, but I can’t see her without seeing Peter. Peter was usually the person who always comforted me when my parents would leave. I felt tears start to sting my eyes. No. I promised myself I would stop crying over him. I blinked away the tears and began walking to school. I walked kind of slow so when I walked in most people were at their lockers. What happened next was pretty weird. It felt like I was in a movie. Everything was going in slow motion and basically, everyone was staring at me. I mean I’m pretty sure it’s because the past two weeks I’ve acted like actual death and looked it too, but then again I didn’t think people noticed.

“Nice ass Y/L/N” I heard Flash say from behind me

“Shut it Flash” I warned, as he put both his hands up laughing. I right as I turned around I ran into someone which knocked me over making me land right on my butt.

“I’m so sor-” I cut myself off as my eyes met with the brown sparkling orbs of
Peter Parker. He was holding out his hand offering to help me up. For some reason, I actually took his hand. I could feel my whole body tingling just from him grabbing my hand. He pulled me up, and I immediately let go of his hand brushing off my pants. I brushed the hair that was in my face behind my ear and stood up straight.

“I’m really sorry about that” I mumble looking down at my feet

“It’s okay” he insisted, I looked up at his face to see a bruise on his face that I hadn’t noticed.

“Oh my god Peter the bruise on your face, who did that to you”I whispered yelled

“It doesn’t matter, the bad guy just got a swing at my face” he stated

“You have to be more careful Peter” I cautioned.

“I am careful you don’t have to worry about me Y/N” he insisted

“Well I do,” I said louder than I wanted to. “I-I h-have to class” I interjected bowing my head and pushing past him to get to class trying to hide the tint of red on my cheeks. That was actually the first semi-normal interaction I had with him in 2 weeks and I barely embarrassed myself. The rest of the day went by pretty fast and MJ and I literally ran home so we could get ready. I went into the bath reapplying and putting more makeup on. I quickly stripped my clothes off and slipped into my dress. I looked into the mirror and I was actually happy with what I saw. I walked out to see Michelle in a beautiful blue dress.

“Dang M, how did you not get a date,” I said

“Well besides from the fact I don’t talk to people, I have no idea” she laughed

“Are you ready to go?” I asked

“Yep, it’s funny how both are always gone for the important things,” She said obviously upset her parents weren’t here too. I gave her a small hug and soft smile and we walked out.

———–

We arrived at the school and walked into the gym. There were balloons everywhere the lights were dim and kids were dancing. MJ and I met up with Ned. I saw Liz walk in without Peter and I raised my eyebrow. I heard the doors open shortly after MJ and I made eye contact with his brown whiskey eyes. I felt like I was staring him for years until MJ pulled me away as Liz grabbed his hand. MJ grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a circle of basically the whole decathlon team dancing, but I still looked towards Peter who surprisingly still has his eyes on me. and I eventually I started to let go and dance to the beat. I felt good the music was upbeat and I was actually having a great time. I took a mental note that I owe MJ Starbucks for making me come to this. There were a couple songs and I dance one dance with Ned, and I even danced with Flash even though I hate him. There was only about 30 minutes left of the dance, and a boy named Isaac who I had couple classes with timidly walked up to me

“Y/N would you like to dance with me,” he asked shyly

“Of course” I replied grabbing his hand and pulling him to the center of the gym. I put my arms around his neck and he put his on my hips and we danced for 2 songs, but I could see and feel Peter’s eyes on me but he was jealous. I knew he was because I’ve known him my whole life and I definitely know when that boy is jealous. He has Liz so why he so bothered by me dancing with someone else.

“You’re distracted by something” he blurted out leaving me a little shocked.

“No, I’m just tired” I insisted

“Hey, look I’m pretty observant, but I’m pretty sure anyone could tell you like Peter Parker a lot more than a friend, and I’m 99.9% positive he feels the same way” He explained

“He is with Liz, he likes Liz, and I already told him how I felt”

“If you haven’t noticed he’s been staring at this whole dance right”

“So what that doesn’t mean anything” I signed looking at my feet.

“Like I said I’m very observant, and the way Peter looks at you is different than he looks at anyone else even Liz” he argued, and I laughed

“You should ask MJ to dance, you guys are very similar” I sighed, still looking at my feet. Soon the song Waves by Dean Lewis came on.

“I’m about to be proven right,” he said triumphantly  

“Wait, what do yo-”

“You mind if I steal her for a dance” I looked to see Peter holding out his hand

“Absolutely” he replied winking at me. I mouthed “I hate you” and he put his hands up in defense walking away. Peter put his hands on my hips and I put mine on his shoulders. I couldn’t face him, I had no idea why he was dancing with me, or how Liz allowed him to do it. I was staring at his tie.

“You look really beautiful tonight Y/N” he commented quietly. Seriously is this boy trying to lead me on? What the hell does he want from me? I pushed him away.

“What kind of game are you playing Parker because I’m seriously sick of th-” I was cut off by him slamming his lips into mine, making my eyes open wider than humanly possible. My arms were at my side clenched and my whole body went tense. To be honest I could not comprehend what was happening, but eventually, my body relaxed and I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer and savoring the way his soft lips felt on mine. We pulled away for air.

“Why did you do that” I whispered.

“Just because I was going to homecoming with didn’t mean I didn’t have the same feelings for you” He revealed bowing his head down. “I asked Liz to homecoming because I thought you didn’t feel the same way, I was going to tell you after that night, but you never really gave me the chance”. I was speechless, honestly, I didn’t know how to react to this, so I just hugged him engulfing his.

“I love you, Peter Parker”

“I love you too”

I guess this wicked game came out with both of us winning.

————-

I hope you guys liked it! Feedback is seriously appreciated


tag list: @bonum-viatee  @emily-ily2 @kkkkkennedyyyyy @spidderdaddy  @slythergirlimagines

february 2017 - dan and phil

2/12

first week (1-7): still up on the isle of man for phil’s birthweek! phil goes on a pleasant walk on the beach. accompaniment confirmed by dan howell (and martyn and cornelia). dan fell or something while trying to be an aesthetic hoe (a sprained wrist and knee? sorry my honeybee). dan posts another pic from iom and i don’t know why i’m crying in the club right now? (also he posted a flop of it on twitter…whatever). phil liveshow! (highlights: birthday present haul includes cool shoes from martyn, sock book, rewined candle, cool beetle jumper from parents, sushi gummies from dan (nostalgia from tatinof uk), firefly on blu-ray, terrarium, big lava lamp from dan, basically just spent a lot of time walking on the seaside and stuff for his bday celebrations, dan falling was hilarious and also genuinely concerning, “He’s a tall guy so it’s a long way to fall,” magic 8 ball predicted that a dog is on the horizon ???!!!!???!!!, if he does anything interesting he’ll do more day in the lifes??!!!!?!). another seaside walk picture plz stop. new gaming video: Dan vs. Phil: QUICK DRAW! phil gives us a relaxing video of the lava lamp dan gave him. nailbaiting occurred by phil. dan and nathan zed interacted and i ascended. phil takes pictures of dan a lot and dan likes posting them (aka dan lays on the floor trying to script). new danisnotonfire video: MY EVIL PIANO TEACHER (aka dan playing the piano thank god). phil still has jingle bells stuck in his head. dan liveshow! (highlights: sweaty and sensual dan ://, they help each other film because setting up tripods is for losers when you have your own person, they cried laughing filming the piano video, dan was excited about this sext marcus butler sent him from this video but then realized it was a joke, phil’s birthday week has extended until forever, dan dramatically fell and talked about it for five minutes, has hamilton tickets, he might rebrand to Dan Howell on youtube wow plz, he went to the dentist :/). 

second week (8-15): dan and phil hang out with zoe and meerkats as her wish for make a wish foundation! new gaming video: IS IT PAINFUL TO DIE?! - Dan and Phil play Google Feud #2. phil liveshow! (highlights: dan got phil a signed nude of david boreanaz, when they saw manchester by the sea a man tripped into dans popcorn oops, wow! there were three gas leaks in their house! it’s like the universe is trying to say something! *cough* move, if there are more gas leaks they will have to leave the house for three weeks and they would probs go on holiday…japan plz.., phil has pretty houseplants with pretty flowers, he bought a fluffy coat, loved the meerkats, petbaiting). cute australia pic (i wish i was that kanga). new phil icon which has effectively made me dead? (also accompanying pic) new gaming video: DIL GETS A FREEZE RAY. dan gets wet and sticky with phil in phils bedroom. new amazingphil video: Dan and Phil PASTEL EDITS IN REAL LIFE! (i dont know how to feel? i have been overwhelmed). also dan calls phil hubby but like not really but also really and… why. phil wishes us a happy valentines day with a sloth. dan liveshow! (highlights: i don’t really know dan destroyed gender roles and wore a grey wig and a flower crown and tried to scrape off his tattoos just watch the video plz). another australia selfie :( another belated birthday meal for phil but he ate moss that was attached to his drink (is he just gonna keep turning 30 forever jeez). 

third week (16-23): phil’s parents come to london to visit (no phil liveshow) but during their next liveshows they confirm they saw book of mormon again with the in-laws *cough* parents. new gaming video: IS THIS THE END? Dan and Phil play THE IMPOSSIBLE QUIZ! #6 (twas a good one). there are seagulls outside phil’s windows (side note: hector aka shitty watercolour made a painting of it and the livestream of it was good not that anyone cares). phil spent his weekend watching time lapses of cats when they are home alone. dan threw an entire salad out (aka his agenda to force phil to eat pizza and not get healthy even though phil has signed up for the gym and gone jogging i hate him). new gaming video: HORSE BOYFRIEND SIMULATOR?! - Dan and Phil play: My Horse Prince. phil is a bad lurker irl #confirmed as he tried to watch a couple argue but it didn’t work out that well. dan said chicken instead of ordering coffee at starbucks and now he can’t go to that one anymore. also on the same day someone spotted dan and phil out on a bus wow. dan and phil were watching a property show (moving? stay woke) and saw their merch. dan liveshow! (highlights: pastel beanie: on, curly hair: worn, dick: out, i am forcibly removed from the liveshow, he said chicken because of the cow and chicken theme song stuck in his head what a weirdo, he has a cheeky idea for a video thats important but not really and he doesnt know if hes ready :), he has realized he could murder someone because he just spaces out aka the salad event, they forgot to paint their nails and put in earrings for the pastel edits video wow thats great, asmr, he loves moonlight thank god, he and phil play sing star and are only good at toxic and muse, his reblogs on tumblr don’t mean anything, he had a very long shower). phil keeps buying weird things for their home. phil liveshow! (highlights: storm doris, had a haircut in his house again and it goes without saying dan got one too, liveshow haul, he froze younow is philphobic, seven exo planets and countless universes! phil is so smart, final fantasy is too long for dapg, excited for the oscars, and then that’s it because phil likes to keep his liveshows short). 

week four (24-28): oops i counted the days wrong this week is too short, dan is a sad pimp, new gaming video: BATTLE OF THE BALLS - Dan vs. Phil: Golf With Friends. phil had a cozy day and ate cookies. dan believes moonlight should win for best film as it is the most important (thenks dan howell for my life). phil tries to stay up for the oscars but fails and dan lets us all know. “at least i didn’t fuck up as hard as the 2017 oscars envelope guy”, new gaming video: DIL BURNS THE PANCAKES - Dan and Phil Play: Sims 4 #36, dan didn’t have a liveshow because younow was broken

a nice month. what in februation

Crawling Chaos - Part One - Void Stiles

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Void Stiles/Reader

Word Count: 3,496

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, Riddles

Notes: My first Void smut? My first Void smut. Not sure how well this will really go tbh because I don’t think I’m good at portraying Void. But let me know for sure if you do like it. This idea has been in my mind for a few weeks now, and all because I was listening to one certain anime opening at work called Koi wa Chaos no Shimobenari. It kind of gave me the idea for what to do with this, even though it has NOTHING to do with the song. Also, side note, i did use Google Translate for one small thing in here. Don’t blame me if it is wrong.

Part 2  Part 3

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for @fauvistfly, who wanted something with pining and stiles being a singer

rated T, 2.3k also on AO3 here 

It’s four am and the diner is quiet. Derek finishes wiping down a table; life as usual, he’s alone, he’s at work, everything goes on as it does. He refills coffee for the two tired-looking truckers sitting at the counter and goes back to refilling the salt shakers.

The last time Cora was home, she’d asked if he and Laura ever considered selling the place. “Doesn’t do much business,” she said, trying to be gentle. Say it was okay to let go. But she’d only been a baby when the accident happened that took their parents; she didn’t have memories growing up here the way Derek and Laura did, playing hide-and-seek under the counters, watching their dad bake pies and their mom fill coffee, listening to travelers talk about their lives on the road.

Hale’s is fifty miles from the nearest town in either direction, a blink-and-miss-it diner still stuck in the ‘50s, right off the Pacific Coast Highway. The little town of Beacon Hills is an hour away, so almost all the patrons are travellers, people looking for respite from the road, on their way up to the redwoods or heading down to San Francisco and Los Angeles. There’s a little wall of autographs from famous people who’ve dined here; cowboys and starlets and authors and people Derek’s parents took a shine to. The diner is a historic landmark, not to mention it’s always been home to Derek.

So Laura manages the day shift and Derek does the night. It works out well; he doesn’t have to interact with people much. He and Laura were homeschooled until high school, and Derek had found Beacon Hills High School overwhelming with its crowds.

The radio starts a new song; it’s one of Derek’s favorites. He doesn’t remember the name of the artist, but it makes Derek feel alive. The song lyrics aren’t particularly sensual, but the man’s voice is— Derek shudders, feeling his blood run hot under his skin, and he imagines the warm touch of someone pulling him close, embracing him, kissing him—

“Can I take this coffee to go?”

“Oh. Sure,” Derek says, pouring the trucker’s coffee into a plastic cup.

They leave him a decent tip and are off, the bell jingling as they go.

Derek sighs, watching the moonlight dance across the ocean in the distance. He listens to the rustling of the trees, and occasionally a car will drive past the diner, lights blaring.

He turns off the radio and hums the song to himself as he sweeps up.

There’s longing here, of a love long lost, and Derek is lost to the song, to the memories it drags up.

Nothing but the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the white hot sun burning just beyond Derek’s closed eyes. He can feel the warm body next to him stir awake, and then fingers carding through his hair.

“Derek… hey. You awake?”

“Nope,” Derek says, and he can already picture it: Stiles leaning over him, his hair still wet, eyes bright with laughter.

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Full Esquire Interview - CHRIS EVANS IS READY TO FIGHT

“HIS SUCCESS AS CAPTAIN AMERICA HAS MADE CHRIS EVANS ONE OF HOLLYWOOD’S SURE THINGS, WHICH MEANS HE CAN DO WHATEVER HE WANTS WITH HIS FREE TIME. SO WHY JUMP OUT OF AIRPLANES AND GET INTO IT WITH DAVID DUKE?

BY MAXIMILLIAN POTTERMAR 15, 2017


The Canadian commandos are the first to jump. Our plane reaches an altitude of about eight thousand feet; the back door opens. Although it’s a warm winter day below in rural southern California, up here, not so much. In whooshes freezing air and the cold reality that this is actually happening. Out drop the eight commandos, all in black-and-red camouflage, one after the other. For them it’s a training exercise, and Jesus, these crazy bastards are stoked. The last Canuck to exit into the nothingness is a freakishly tall stud with a crew cut and a handlebar mustache; just before he leaps, he flashes a smile our way. Yeah, yeah, we get it: You’re a badass.

Moments later, the plane’s at ten thousand feet, and the next to go are a Middle Eastern couple in their late thirties. These two can’t wait. They are ecstatic. Skydiving is clearly a thing for them. Why? I can’t help thinking. Is it like foreplay? Do they rush off to the car after landing and get it on in the parking lot? They give us the thumbs-up and they’re gone.

Just like that, we’re at 12,500 feet and it’s our turn. Me and Chris Evans, recognized throughout the universe as the star of the Marvel-comic-book-inspired Captain America and Avengers movies. The five films in the series, which began in 2011 with Captain America: The First Avenger, have grossed more than $4 billion.

The two of us, plus four crew members, are the only ones left in the back of the plane. Over the loud drone of the twin propellers, one of the crew members shouts, "Okay, who’s going first?”

Evans and I are seated on benches opposite each other. Neither of us answers. I look at him; he looks at me. I feel like I’ve swallowed a live rat. Evans is over there, all Captain America cool, smiling away.

While we were waiting to board the plane, Evans told me that as he lay in bed the night before, “I started exploring the sensation of ‘What if the chute doesn’t open?’. . .”

Oh, did you now?

“. . .Those last minutes where you know.” As in you know you’re going to fatally splat. “You’re not gonna pass out; you’re gonna be wide awake. So what? Do I close my eyes? Hopefully, it would be quick. Lights out. I fucking hope it would be quick. And then I was like, if you’re gonna do it, let’s just pretend there is no way this is going to go wrong. Just really embrace it and jump out of that plane with gusto.” Evans also shared that he’d looked up the rate of skydiving fatalities. “It’s, like, 0.006 fatalities per one thousand jumps. So I figure our odds are pretty good.”

Again the crew member shouts, “Who’s going first?”

Again I look at Evans; again he looks at me. The rat is running circles in my belly.

I look at Evans; he looks at me.

Another crew member asks, “So whose idea was this, anyway?”


That’s an excellent question.

I ask Evans the same thing when we first meet, the evening before our jump, at his house. He lives atop the Hollywood Hills, in a modern-contemporary ranch in the center of a Japanese-style garden. The place has the vibe of an L.A. meditation retreat—there’s even a little Buddha statue on the front step.

The dude who opens the front door is in jeans, a T-shirt, and Nikes; he has on a black ball cap with the NASA logo, and his beard is substantial enough that for a second it’s hard to be sure this is the same guy who plays the baby-faced superhero. Our handshake in the doorway is interrupted when his dog rockets toward my crotch. Evans is sorry about that.

We do the small-talk thing. Evans is from a suburb of Boston, one of four kids raised by Dad, a dentist, and Mom, who ran a community theater. The point is, he’s a Patriots fan, and with Super Bowl LI, between the Pats and the Falcons, just a few days away at the time, it’s about the only thing on his mind. You bet your Sam Adams–guzzling ass he’s going to the game in Houston. “Oh my God,” he says, doing a little dance. “I can’t believe it’s this weekend.”

Like any self-respecting Pats fan, Evans is super-wicked pissed at NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

Evans won’t be rolling to SB LI with a posse of Beantown-to-Hollywood A-listers like Mark Wahlberg, Matt Damon, and Ben Affleck. For the record, he’s never met Damon, and his only interaction with Wahlberg was a couple years ago at a Patriots event. Evans has, however, humiliated himself in front of Affleck.

Around 2006, Evans met with Affleck to talk about Gone Baby Gone, which Affleck was directing. Evans was walking down a hallway, looking for the room where they were supposed to meet. Walking by an open office, he heard Affleck, in that thick Boston accent of his, shout, “There he is!” (Evans does a perfect Affleck impersonation.)

By then, Evans had hit the big time for his turn as the Human Torch, Johnny Storm, in 2005’s Fantastic Four, but he still got starstruck. As he tells it, “First thing I say to him: 'Am I going to be okay where I parked?’ He was like, 'Where did you park?’ I said, 'At a meter.’ And he was like, 'Did you put money in the meter?’ And I said, 'Yep.’ And he says, 'Well, I think you’ll be okay.’ I was like, this is off to a great fucking start.” Stating the obvious here: Evans did not get the part.

No, Evans will be heading to the Super Bowl with his brother and three of his closest buddies. Like any self-respecting Pats fan, Evans is super-wicked pissed at NFL commissioner Roger Goodell for imposing that suspension on Tom Brady for Deflategate. Grabbing two beers from a fridge that’s otherwise basically empty, Evans says, “I just want to see Goodell hand the trophy to Brady. Goodell. Piece of shit.”

In Evans’s living room, there’s not a single hint of his Captain Americaness. Earth tones, tables that appear to be made of reclaimed wood. Open. Uncluttered. Glass doors open onto a backyard with a stunning view of the Hills. Evans stretches out on one of two couches. I take the other and ask, “Just whose idea was it to jump?” Since we both know whose idea it wasn’t, we both know that what I’m really asking is Why? Why, dude, do you want to jump (with me) from a goddamn airplane? “Yeah,” he says, popping open his beer, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Settling in on the couch, he groans. Evans explains that he’s hurting all over because he just started his workout routine the day before to get in shape for the next two Captain America films. The movies will be shot back to back beginning in April. After that, no more red- white-and-blue costume for the thirty-five-year-old. He will have fulfilled his contract.

“Yeah,” he says, popping open his beer, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Back in 2010, Marvel presented Evans with a nine-picture deal. He insisted he’d sign on for no more than six. Some family members thought he was nuts to dial back such a secure and lucrative gig. Evans saw it differently.

It takes five months to shoot a Marvel movie, and when you tack on the promotional obligations for each one, well, shit, man. Evans knew that for as long as he was bound to Captain America, he would have little time to take on other projects. He wanted to direct, he wanted to play other characters—roles that were more human—like the lead in Gifted, which will hit theaters this month. The script had brought him to tears. Evans managed to squeeze the movie in between Captain America and Avengers films.

FOX Searchlight

In Gifted, Evans stars as Frank Adler. You don’t get much more human than Adler, a grease-under-his-nails boat-engine mechanic living the bachelor life in Florida. After a series of tragic circumstances, Adler becomes a surrogate father to his niece, Mary, a first-grader with the IQ of Einstein. He recognizes that Mary is a little genius, and he does his best to prevent anyone else from noticing. Given the aforementioned circumstances, Adler has witnessed what can happen when a kid with a brilliant mind is pushed too hard too quickly. Then along comes Mary’s teacher. She discovers the child’s gift, and a Kramer vs. Kramer–esque drama ensues.

During a moment in the film when things aren’t going Adler’s way, he sarcastically refers to himself as a “fucking hero.” Evans says the line didn’t lead him to make comparisons between superhero Steve Rogers (aka Captain America) and Everyman hero Frank Adler. But now that you mention it . . . 

“With Steve Rogers,” Evans says, “even though you’re on a giant movie with a huge budget and strange costumes, you’re still on a hunt for the truth of the character.” That said, “with Adler, it’s nice to play someone relatable. I think Julianne Moore said, 'The audience doesn’t come to see you; they come to see themselves.’ Adler is someone you can hold up as a mirror for someone in the audience. They’ll be able to far more easily identify with Frank Adler than Steve Rogers.”

Dodger. That’s the name of Evans’s dog, the one who headbutted my nuts and has since done a marvelous job of making amends by nuzzling against me on the couch. Evans got him while he was filming Gifted; one of the last scenes was shot in an animal shelter in Georgia. Evans had wanted a dog ever since his last pooch died in 2012. Then he found himself walking the aisles of this pound, and there was this mixed-breed boxer, wagging his tail and looking like he belonged with Evans.

Dodger is not exactly a name you’d think a die-hard Boston sports fan would pick. His boys from back home have given him a ton of shit over it. But he has not abandoned his Red Sox for the L.A. team. As a kid, he loved the Disney animated movie Oliver & Company, and his favorite character was Dodger. Anticipating the grief he was going to get from his pals, Evans considered other names. “You could name your dog Doorknob,” he says, “and in a month he’s fucking Doorknob.” Evans’s mom convinced him to go with his gut.

Right around when Evans was wrapping Gifted and heading back to L.A. with Dodger, the 2016 presidential campaign was still in that phase when no one, including the actor—a Hillary Clinton supporter—thought Trump had a shot. He still can’t believe Trump won.

“I feel rage,” he says. “I feel fury. It’s unbelievable. People were just so desperate to hear someone say that someone is to blame. They were just so happy to hear that someone was angry. Hear someone say that Washington sucks. They just want something new without actually understanding. I mean, guys like Steve Bannon—Steve Bannon!—this man has no place in politics.”

Evans has made, and continues to make, his political views known on Twitter. He tweeted that Trump ought to “stop energizing lies,” and he recently ended up in a heated Twitter debate with former KKK leader David Duke over Trump’s pick of Jeff Sessions for attorney general. Duke baselessly accused Evans of being anti-Semitic; Evans encouraged Duke to try love: “It’s stronger than hate. It unites us. I promise it’s in you under the anger and fear.” Making political statements and engaging in such public exchanges is a rather risky thing for the star of Captain America to do. Yes, advisors have said as much to him. “Look, I’m in a business where you’ve got to sell tickets,” he says. “But, my God, I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror if I felt strongly about something and didn’t speak up. I think it’s about how you speak up. We’re allowed to disagree. If I state my case and people don’t want to go see my movies as a result, I’m okay with that.”

Trump. Bannon. Politics. Now Evans is animated. He gets off the couch, walks out onto his porch, and lights a cigarette. “Some people say, 'Don’t you see what’s happening? It’s time to yell,' ” Evans says. “Yeah, I see it, and it’s time for calm. Because not everyone who voted for Trump is going to be some horrible bigot. There are a lot of people in that middle; those are the people you can’t lose your credibility with. If you’re trying to change minds, by spewing too much rhetoric you can easily become white noise.”


Evans has a pretty remarkable “How I got to Hollywood” story.

During his junior year of high school, he knew he wanted to act. He was doing it a lot. In school. At his mom’s theater. He loved it. “When you’re doing a play at thirteen years old and have opening night? None of my friends had opening nights. 'I can’t have a sleepover, guys; I have an opening night tonight.' ”

That same year, he did a two-man play. For all of the twenty-plus plays Evans had done up to that point, preparation meant going home, memorizing lines, and doing a few run-throughs with the cast. However, for this play, Fallen Star, he and his costar would rehearse by running dialogue with each other. Hour upon hour, night after night.

Fallen Star is about two friends, one of whom has just died. As the play opens, one of the characters comes home after the funeral to find his dead friend’s ghost. Evans was the ghost. Waiting backstage on opening night, he knew he didn’t have every line memorized, but he had the essence and emotion of the play down. Onstage, he remembers, “I was saying the lines not because they were memorized but because the play was in me. I was believing what I was saying.”

He was hooked. He wanted to do more of this kind of acting—real acting. He wanted to do films, in which the camera was right on him and he could just be the character, rather than theater, in which an actor must perform to the back of the room.

A family friend who was a television actor advised Evans that if he wanted to go to Hollywood, he needed an agent. Toward the end of his junior year, he had a ballsy request for his parents: If he found an internship with a casting agent in New York City, would they allow him to live there and cover the rent? They agreed. Evans landed a gig with Bonnie Finnegan, who was then working on the television show Spin City.

“I just fucked off. I lost my virginity that year. 1999 was one of the best years of my life.” Until it wasn’t.

Evans chose to intern with a casting agent because he figured he had more of a chance to interact with other agents trying to get auditions for their clients.

The kid was sixteen years old.

Finnegan put Evans on the phone; his responsibilities included setting up appointments for auditions. By the end of the summer, he picked the three agents he had the best rapport with and asked each of them to give him a five-minute audition. All three said yes. After seeing his audition, all three were interested.

Evans went with the one Finnegan recommended, Bret Adams, who told Evans to return to New York for auditions in January, television pilot season. Back home, Evans doubled up on a few classes the first semester of his senior year, graduated early, and went back to New York in January. He got the same shithole apartment in Brooklyn and the same internship with Finnegan. He landed a part on the pilot Opposite Sex. Even better, the show got picked up and would start shooting in L.A. that fall.

“I know I’m going to L.A. in August,” Evans says, recalling that period. “So I go home and that spring I would wake up around noon, saunter into high school just to see my buddies, and we’d go get high in the parking lot. I just fucked off. I lost my virginity that year. 1999 was one of the best years of my life.” Until it wasn’t.

He wasn’t in L.A. for even a month when he got a call from home. His parents were divorcing. Evans never saw it coming.

Family and love and the struggles therein are part of what attracted Evans to Gifted.

“In my own life, I have a deep connection with my family and the value of those bonds,” he says. “I’ve always loved stories about people who put their families before themselves. It’s such a noble endeavor. You can’t choose your family, as opposed to friends. Especially in L.A. You really get to see how friendships are put to the test; it stirs everyone’s egos. But if something goes south with a friend, you have the option to say we’re not friends anymore. Your family—that’s your family. Trying to make that system work and trying to make it not just functional but actually enjoyable is a really challenging endeavor, and that’s certainly how it is with my family.”


the plane, a decision is made.

“I want to see you jump first,” Evans shouts my way.

Of course he does.

Like any respectable and legal skydiving center, Skydive Perris, which is providing us with this “experience,” doesn’t just strap a chute on your back. First, you go to a room for a period of instruction. Then you go to another room, where you sign away your rights.

You may be wondering how the star of a billion-dollar franchise with two pictures to shoot gets clearance to jump from an airplane—never mind the low rate of fatalities, as Evans has presented it. So am I.

“Well, they give you all these crazy insurance policies, but even if I die, what are they going to do? Sue my family? They’d probably cast some new guy at a cheaper price and save some money.”

Thinking the answer is almost certainly going to be no, I ask Evans if he’s ever gone skydiving before. Turns out he has, with an ex-girlfriend. Turns out that ex-girlfriend is now married to Justin Timberlake. Evans and Jessica Biel dated off and on from 2001 to 2006. They took the leap together when Biel hatched the idea for one Valentine’s Day. According to media accounts, Evans was recently dating his Gifted costar Jenny Slate, who plays the teacher. “Yeah,” he says, “but I’m steering clear of those questions.” You can almost feel his heart pinch.

“There’s a certain shared life experience that is tough for someone else who’s not in this industry to kind of wrap their head around.”

We end up broadly discussing the unique challenges an international star like Evans faces when it comes to dating, specifically the trust factor. Evans supposes that’s why so many actors date other actors: “There’s a certain shared life experience that is tough for someone else who’s not in this industry to kind of wrap their head around,” he says. “Letting someone go to work with someone for three months and they won’t see them. It really, it certainly puts the relationship to the test.”

In Gifted, there’s a moment when Slate’s character asks Adler what his greatest fear is. Frank Adler’s greatest fear is that he’ll ruin his niece’s life. Evans’s greatest fear is having regrets.

“Like always kind of wanting to be there as opposed to here. I think I’m worried all of a sudden I’ll get old and have regrets, realize that I’ve not cultivated enough of an appreciation for the now and surrendering to the present moment.”

Evans’s musings have something to do with the fact that he has been reading The Surrender Experiment. “It’s about the basic notion that we are only in a good mood when things are going our way,” he says. “The truth is, life is going to unfold as it’s going to unfold regardless of your input. If you are an active participant in that awareness, life kind of washes over you, good or bad. You kind of become Teflon a little bit to the struggles that we self-inflict.”

He continues: “Our conscious minds are very spread out. We worry about the past. We worry about the future. We label. And all of that stuff just makes us very separate. What I’m trying to do is just quiet it down. Put that brain down from time to time and hope those periods of quiet and stillness get longer. When you do that, what rises from the mist is a kind of surrendering. You’re more connected as opposed to being separate. A lot of the questions about destiny or fate or purpose or any of that stuff—it’s not like you get answers. You just realize you didn’t need the questions.”

This here—this stuff about surrendering, letting life unfold, taking the leap—this is why he wanted to go skydiving. It’s why that sixteen-year-old took the leap and did the summer in New York; it’s why he took the leap and turned down the nine-picture deal; it’s why he got Dodger. Surrender. Take the leap.

And so I go first.

Oh, one important detail: Novice jumpers like Evans and me, we don’t jump solo. Thank God. Each of us is doing a tandem jump. Each of us is strapped with our back to a professional jumper’s front. I’m strapped to a forty-four-year-old dude named Paul. Considering what’s about to happen, I figure I should know a little something about Paul. He tells me he used to own a bar in Chicago. Evans is strapped to a young woman named Sam, who looks to be twenty-something. She’s got a purplish-pink streak in her black hair and says things like “badass.” In fact, Sam introduced herself  by saying, “I’m Sam, but you can call me Badass.”

At the plane’s open door, my mind goes to my wife and two teenage sons, to those I love, and to the texts I just sent in case my chute fails. Then Paul and I—well, really mostly Paul—rock gently back and forth to build momentum to push away from the plane, to push away from all that seems sane.

Three.

Two.

One.

Holy fuck.

HOLY FUCK. This is what I scream as we free-fall from 12,500 feet, at more than a hundred miles an hour, toward the earth. Which I cannot take my eyes off of. I think about nothing. Not living. Not dying. Nothing. I simply feel . . . I have let go.

Suddenly, it all stops. I’m jerked up. Paul has pulled the chute, and it does indeed open. This is fantastic, because it means we have a much better chance of not dying. But it’s also kind of a bummer. I had let go. Of everything. I had chosen to play those odds Evans had talked about. I had embraced jumping and letting life unfold.

Now I had been jerked back. I would land. Back on the earth I had been so high above and from which I had been so far removed. Back in all of it.

Once I’m on the ground, safe and in one piece, a staffer runs over and asks how I feel. I say, “I feel like Captain America.”

The staffer runs over and asks Evans the same question. He says he feels great. Then he’s asked another question: What was your favorite part?

“Jumping out,” he says. “Jumping out is always a real thrill.”


This article appears in the April '17 issue of Esquire.

Desperate Times (Joker x Reader)

Okay. I’m so sorry guys, I know it’s been about 80000 years since I’ve posted but I’ve just had really bad writers block and I’ve been really busy with work and school and whatnot but here it is. 

This was a request from an anon: “Could you please make an imagine where the reader is given to Mistah J because they were in debt to him. He immediately because super obsessed with her, but the reader is very scared of him <3 <3″ 

This is like decently close to the request just i couldn’t figure out what to write. I’m sorry!!!!! 

——————————————————————————————-

“Please, no Mr. Joker, I’ll give you anything. You can have anything.” You saw the man beg for his life, for another chance. It disgusted you to see him like this. To see the man you once knew as your father beg for drugs. You shook your head in disgust and turned away. You had no idea why but he insisted you be there with him, maybe it’s ‘cause he knew it could very well be one of his last days, if not his last.

“Anything?” The green haired man purred as he circled your father. Your father nodded and looked you in the eyes as if he were apologizing. Confusion clouded your mind as to why he would be apologizing. Maybe it was for being a shitty father, or for making you witness this horrid interaction.

“You can have my daughter,” he stated simply. You eyes snapped open and your back straightened.

“Excuse me? No you can’t have me and what the fuck dad?” You said in disbelief.

“Oh she’s feisty, I like her. You’ve got yourself a deal there Mr. You can keep your life, and your drugs, in exchange for this lovely creature,” he said as his looked you up and down, drinking in every detail of your body.

“No. Dad what the hell is wrong with you? You’re not actually serious are you?” Your voice dropped as the look in his eyes confirmed that he was in fact serious about selling you to the Joker.

“I’m sorry Y/N. There’s nothing else I can do,” he muttered, embarrassed that he had gotten to this point. Your heart broke as you watched the man you once looked up to pick drugs over his own daughter.

“Oh we are going to have so much fun together little miss Y/N,” the Joker snarled in your ear. You flinched as his hands came down on your shoulders.

“Dad… How could you?” He looked down in shame and walked out of the room without a word. Tears were streaming steadily down your face as you stared at the door he had just left through.

“Hm. Dads, am I right?” The Joker broke the silence in the room. “Hi doll face, I’m the Joker, the man that your father is seriously indebted to, and you belong to me now! You can call me Mr. J,” he said, extending a hand towards you as if to shake hands. You glanced down at his hand and ignored the offer. “Oh sweetheart now that’s just rude. That won’t fly doll. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Gonna have to teach you a lesson then. Take a seat,” he said as he pulled you down to sit next to him. His face got serious and you knew you were in trouble. “You belong to me now. That means you do what I want, when I want, and where I want. If you disobey me sweetcheeks, you get punished. Are we clear doll face?” He gripped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. You nodded and he released your face. “What’s your name sweets?”

“Y/N,” you said simply. He stared at you with a bored look as if he was expecting you to say more. You stared back in defiance and he let out a long displeased groan.

“Not a talker are we? I can change that y’know,” he said with a maniacal smile as he pulled his shiny gun out of the holster under his jacket. He lifted the gun and caressed your soft cheeks with the cool, hard metal. You stared him dead in his crazy eyes as he tried to scare you with the powerful weapon in his hands. His face fell as he realized you weren’t scared and you wouldn’t open up to him. “Now tell me doll, am I gonna have to find some other ways of getting you to open that pretty mouth of yours?”

“Fine. What do you want to know. You get three questions, choose wisely,” you said, boredom dripping in your words. Your father had dragged you in to a world of guns and violence, this was not the first time you had been threatened at gun point and you had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

The Joker raised his non-existent eyebrow and stared you down. He was vastly impressed by your cool composure and lack of fear. Most in your shoes would be trembling, begging for their dear lives but you, you just sat there, bored with his games and his old intimidation tactics.

“And who do you think you are making demands?” He sneered angrily.

“I’m just trying to get this show on the road. Question one, two more to go. Like I said Mr. J, choose wisely.”

“I like your spunk sweetcheeks. Alright, why aren’t you scared? Most people would be terrified out of their minds, why not you?” He inquired.

“You’re not the first basket case my father has pissed off. I’ve been tied down, beat, interrogated, the works. I’m used to it now. My father owes a lot of people a lot of money but what they always fail to realize is that I mean little to nothing to him. I must admit, I’m a little impressed. You’re different than the others. He’s offered me up before y’know? No one’s ever agreed but you, you fell for it,” you explained. He stared at you with a confused look spread across is tattooed porcelain skin. “Stop staring,” you said.

He stared at you open mouthed and went to wrap his hand around your neck only to retract quickly. “You doll, are special, that’s for sure. I can’t wait for all the fun we’re going to have. Last question, do you like the left or the right side of the bed?” He threw his head back as he howled with laughter, his infamous laugh ringing through your ears and the small room you two were seated in.

You rolled your eyes and mentally groaned at the stupidity of this man. “Right,” you said as you got up from the small couch. “Can we go now? I would really like to get out of here and take a shower. I’m assuming there’ll be towels and whatnot ready for me? Clothes maybe?” He shook his head at you and wrapped his hand in your hair and yanked back.

“Now listen here Y/N, just because you’re not scared of me doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be. I’m sure you’ve heard of some of the things I’ve done and trust me honey, I can do worse,” he spoke in a deep, threatening voice. You felt the tip of his gun press against the center of your back. You had to admit that you were a little scared. The other men you dealt with were nothing like him. He was deadly, ruthless, and he could crack at any moment. “Now that we have the all cleared up let’s get this show on the road shall we?” His mood switched instantly.

A while later you pulled up to a lavish place. You were unsure of what to expect from him but you figured it shouldn’t surprise you that he lives in such an extravagant set up. He pulled you up from your elbow and you followed him inside. It was beautiful as you had expected upon seeing the outside of the house. Gold everything, marble counters, purple accents strewn around the house.

You glanced around, taking in what would be your new house.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled to yourself mostly. His hands came down on your shoulders in a gentle way, his hands travelling up and down your shoulders. You leaned your head to the side allowing a pleasant stretch to the tense muscles of your neck. “Do you live here all alone?” you inquired.

“No, the maid lives here, a few of my more trusted henchmen, for security measures. Not that I couldn’t protect myself, just don’t wanna do all the work myself,” he answered. You hummed in acknowledgement and continued to scan the room around you. “The room’s upstairs, I already had some of my men pick up your stuff from your father’s place, if you need anything else just tell me and I’ll send someone out to get it,” he said as he walked to the kitchen. You nodded, and dragged yourself up to what looked like a spare room. You plopped down on the bed and let out a long sigh.

So this is what my life is like now, you thought to yourself, looking around the lavish room. Joker stepped up to the doorway and stared you down before sitting down next to you on the big fluffy bed. “Why am I here Joker?”

“Please, call me Mr. J, Joker sounds… Too formal. I want you here because you’re a beautiful girl, your father did me wrong, and I want to make him pay.”

“Hah… Well jokes on you Mr. J. My father doesn’t care about me. Keeping me here is doing nothing but giving him the chance to shamelessly waste away without me yelling at him. You’re doing him a favor,” you explained. He nodded and spread a wide silver grin across his pale tattooed face.

“Y’know doll, maybe I just want your lovely company,” he said sarcastically.

“Y’know, maybe I just can’t stand your company,” you retorted. Before you could react, his hand came across your skin with a harsh sting. The force behind it made you fall back and place a tender touch on your cheek. You looked down, cowering away in fear. You loved to put on the tough girl act. Sure, you had dealt with crazies but nothing that ever came close to the Joker.

A slow tear dripped down your soft cheek. His eyes widened at the realization that he had made you cry. “Can you please leave me alone,” you muttered.

“Shit Y/N are you okay doll?” His voice was a bit quieter than before.

“Please just leave.” You were shaking, terrified to be in the same room as this psychotic, dangerous man.

“What’s wrong sweets?” You looked at him with a look of disbelief.

“You just slapped me across the face. If I’m being totally honest, I’m terrified right now. You scare the living daylights out of me. The moment I saw you I was scared for my life. I don’t want you in here. If I’m going to have to live with you I want to be left alone… I don’t want to be scared for my life. Please just go…” He looked at you, shock on his face.

“Alright. If you need something you can let someone know.” He placed a hand on your hunched back and left.

A small part of you felt bad for banishing him from your life but it wasn’t right for him to treat you in such an awful manner. You let out a sigh and laid down on the comfortable bed. Before you knew it you had slipped in to a deep sleep, forgetting about the disaster your life had become.

Proud of Your Boy - Jason Todd x Batmom

If there’s one thing that Jason regrets about how his life turned out was that he disappointed you. You and Bruce had taken him in when he was just a street rat stealing to survive. Bruce was the closest thing that he had to a father and you, you were a mother to him in every way but blood.

When he died you were absolutely devastated. Jason didn’t like to imagine what it must have been like for you to lose him, your son. When he came back, there were times that he wanted to go to you, to be your son again but he was wild and angry. He lost sight of the person he had been and became someone that no mother could take pride in.

When he came back to Gotham as the Red Hood, Jason knew Bruce must have told you about all that he had done. When he thought about what you must think about what he’s done, shame clenched at his throat.

He wanted to do better for you.

Jason didn’t want to come home after all these years only to have you look at him like your son was still dead. Jason was determined to shape up before he allowed himself to beg for your forgiveness.

Jason had been in Gotham for almost a year working as the Red Hood alongside his brothers when Bruce finally started talking to him again. He could tell by the way Bruce interacted with him that he still had a long way to go though. It would never be the same between Jason and his adoptive parents but he wanted to mend what had been broken.

After a long night of patrol, Dick pulled Jason aside to talk to him while the others had already disappeared.

“You should go see, Mom.” Dick encouraged. “She asks about you all the time. She misses you man.” Dick said. Jason crossed his arms over his chest and trained his gaze to the ground below his feet.

He knew he would have to face you eventually. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready, if you would be ready to come to terms that he wasn’t the little boy you had raised anymore.

“She was devastated when you died, you know? She didn’t speak for two months, Jason. Not a word. You owe it to her to at least let her see you.” Dick continued. When Jason didn’t respond, he huffed and turned away from him. “She’s your mom too. You could at least pretend to care.”

Dick’s words really ate at Jason over the next couple of days. He decided it was was time for him to start making up for all the lost years. He stopped by the manor one day when Bruce was at the office. You were quietly humming to yourself while you were reading in the library. Jason hesitated briefly, wondering if he really had any right to see you. Before he had the chance to leave he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Hi, Ma.” He said hesitantly. You looked up and stared wide eyed at him.

“Jason.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I’m sorry for everything.” Jason started. There were so many things he wanted to say to you. He almost didn’t know where to start. “I know I’ve been a shitty son and I probably should have told you this a long time ago but I’m trying to be better. I know there’s no good reason you should believe me, not yet at least, and I’m not perfect like Dad or you but I’m trying Ma. I really am. I’m gonna make you proud one day, Ma.” Jason said before staring at the ground.

He had to admit being here with you again made him feel like that small rebellious kid again.  Jason vaguely heard you set your book down and walk over to where he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I am proud of you, Jason.” You said tilting his head so that his eyes met yours. Tears spilled over your eyes and your lip quivered slightly against your sad smile. Jason stood up and engulfed you in a tight hug. After all these years he felt different in your arms.

“I love you, Ma.” He whispered, sounding like the poor vulnerable boy that you had taken into your arms so long ago.

roanieru  asked:

For the 1k one shot giveaway here's a prompt-ish : oblivious!Stiles with Derek trying so hard to ask Stiles out but Stiles just has no idea ❤️❤️❤️❤️congrats on the 1k!!!!!

This was so much fun to write because this was basically how my girlfriend and I got together because I’m a total dork (she and I do have two anniversaries)


the amazing spiderman 2 is on in an hour

The text comes at the best time because Stiles is bored out of his mind and ready to take up knitting at the community center with the elderly if it meant finally getting some social interaction.

Be there in 10

He has no shame in replying instantly to Derek as he scrambles to grab his hightops and his hoodie from the back of the door. Sure, Stiles understood that his friends were busy this summer. They all had jobs and pack training usually wore them out, not to mention just about everyone was paired off and was more likely to hang out with their significant other than Stiles. He wasn’t bitter, it was just how it was. But that’s okay, ‘cause he had Derek.

it takes 15 to get here when you obey the speed limit

Is that the sound of Derek worrying

you’re impossible

Impossible to resist

Stiles hops into the Jeep and dutifully follows all the traffic laws and makes it to Derek’s in just under twenty minutes.

“Honey I’m hoooooome,” Stiles calls obnoxiously into the Hale House, chuckling when he hears Derek’s sigh from the kitchen. He drops his stuff by the door and enters the room that smells like freshly popped popcorn and that jalapeño powder that Stiles liked on his.

“You know the movie doesn’t start for another forty minutes, right?” Derek asks as he brings the popcorn bowls into the living room with Stiles tailing behind him with the drinks he snags from the fridge.

“And? Despite your belief, I do not just use you for your amazing flat screen TV.” Derek snorts and sits down and Stiles follows him down at the other end, tossing his feet up and onto Derek’s thigh. Derek has long since given into it and simply lifts the popcorn a safe distance while Stiles gets comfortable and then settles himself.

“Find anything new about the sidhe?” Derek prompts, tossing a kernel in his mouth.

“Yeah, actually. I found a blog that is run by an emissary that Deaton’s heard of and he had a lot to say,” The conversation continues with Derek asking clarifying questions and Stiles regurgitating all the information he’s found on whatever creature caught his fancy this week. The supernatural were much more fun to research while you weren’t in imminent parel. The movie starts and the conversation doesn’t completely die, just have odd little pauses when Stiles gets distracted by whatever is on screen.

“Dude, why is it so cold?” Stiles asks in the middle of defining the differences between faery and fairy (BIG difference, by the way).

“Oh, a bird flew into the house and broke a window and the heater has never really worked,” Derek shrugs, tilting his chin to the end of the hall where there is indeed a window covered in cardboard.

“Well, not all of us are supernatural heaters,” Stiles snipes, rubbing his upper arm and hoping the goosebumps die down soon. Derek lets out an exasperated sigh and holds out an arm. “What am I supposed to do with that? Chop it off and cuddle it?”

“Or you could come here where it is still attached,” Derek’s eyes close and when they reopen they’re fixed on the ceiling. Well, in retrospect, Stiles was being a little dull.

“Oh, yeah, that works too.” Stiles makes quick work of getting right up next to Derek and settling in the groove between his shoulder and chest. It’s a very nice spot to be and he’s in the perfect spot to demand Derek feed him popcorn - win win. It’s maybe half an hour later that Isaac stumbles in.

“Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to crash your date,” just as soon as he had entered, the blond was gone. Stiles stares after him and then turns to look at Derek.

“What?”

“You might want to use your words, Stiles.” Derek says with a bemused smile. Stiles would laugh but he’s too focused on what Isaac said.

“Isaac called this a date, we aren’t dating.”

“Yes, that’s true. But I’ve been trying to ask you out for so long, Isaac got tired of calling it kinda-not-really-dates and just calls them dates now to save himself the breath.” Derek brings a hand up to his face, massaging the bridge of his nose. Stiles makes a strange noise and tries to lift out of his spot and ends up using Derek’s chest for leverage.

“What do you mean?” His voice has upped by at least two octaves and he can see the werewolf wince.

“It’s fine, Isaac, it had to happen at some point,” Derek says in a normal voice, obviously communicating with the beta from where he’s probably in his room. “Stiles, what do we usually do together?” The question seems odd and Stiles nearly demands a straight answer but his brain is still kinda stuck so he goes with the flow.

“Uh, we go try the new food places around town and watch movies and you took me to that really cool old book store and we walk in the park and oh my god you’ve been taking me on dates, you asshole.” Derek winces and that snaps Stiles out of his stupor, “No no no, that’s not a bad thing except that you didn’t say they were dates, you complete dork!”

“I did, Stiles. I phrased it quite explicitly the first few times. After that I kinda gave up and thought you’d figure it out eventually.” He shrugs, dropping his hand from his face with a rueful smile.

“Derek, it’s been months!”

“Happy six months, Stiles.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“No, I think we’ve thoroughly proven who the idiot is here.”

“Oh my god, just kiss me already.” And kiss him he does. Soft and sweet and just a little awkward with the way they’re both smiling. But that didn’t matter, he was dating Derek Hale and that meant he got to kiss him whenever the hecky dizzle he wanted.

“Wait, Der, does this mean we have two anniversaries? ‘Cause it started on a different day for me.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

Punk (Chap. 9)

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 3423

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, enemy deaths, i think that’s all…*shrugs*

A/N: Chap.9  finally, I know!  This is a it of an information dump/setting the rest of the story arc up chapter.  I tried to dial down the angst since you lovies all told me how you cried on the last chapter :( and put some action and humour in instead.  I hope you like this one and I CAN’T WAIT to give you guys chapter 10 in a few days so please stick around through this one!  it’s worth the wait!

**I’m actually legit terrified that i peaked with the last chapter and nothing will ever be as good, especially this chapter, but i hope to give you guys a good story for the rest of the series.

Feedback fuels my life btw….and the picture is from google…i searched for beautiful things… ;]



“Kiddo, wake up we gotta go.”

Clint’s rough, scratchy voice woke you from an uneasy sleep.  Your head was pounding and your eyes felt sticky, as if they’d been glued together in the night.  “Mmm, wha—w’as happ’nin’?” you mumbled, rubbing a hand down your face. 

“Problem in Brooklyn, we gotta go.  Get dressed,” Clint replied.  He smacked your leg and the bed bounced as he got up and walked towards the closet.

“What about the desert? Nebraska?”

“New Mexico,” Clint clarified with a snort. “There’s no desert in Nebraska. Remind me to get you a map for your birthday.  Now, get—up.” He ripped the blanket away from you, causing you to squeal as cold air rushed over your legs.

“Gah!  I’m up! I’m up!”  You jolted upwards and scrambled out from the bed.  

Keep reading

There’s A Nap For That

Based on this post: “If you both agree to take a nap instead of going out, it’s a date.” 

Or: The one where Bellamy and Clarke keep taking naps together. You know, platonically. See also: Let Them Rest

A/N: I started this before New Years and thought it would be done in like, three days. Oh how naive. But hey, here we are!

WC: ~6.5k
Read on AO3

Clarke doesn’t plan to be alone on New Year’s Eve, but she also doesn’t plan not to be alone–if that makes sense. She could fly back to Los Angeles and attend her mother’s extravagant corporate party, if she wanted to put herself through that. It’s definitely an option.

But she’s long since decided that it’s better to deal with the vague feelings of missing out on the New Year’s celebration over fielding questions about why she’s not following in her mother’s footsteps or, god forbid, whether she’s gotten over that whole sexuality thing yet.

So she calls Abby the night before the party, fulfills her yearly, good-daughter quota of well wishes and pleasantries, and calls it good.

And really, doing nothing on New Year’s Eve is kind of the best thing that’s happened her, stress-wise, in the last six months.

She works in the graphic design department for an uber-trendy website that facilitates commissions for freelance artists, which makes it an incredibly lucrative avenue to get her name out there in the industry. It just also happens that the company is very concerned with staying up-to-date with aesthetic trends, and has her changing logos and web layouts on a weekly basis.

It’s the kind of somewhat crappy, over demanding job that she feels weirdly excited to have, because it means her mom isn’t paying people to make her life easier.

But it has been running her to the bone, so she’s positively delighted to do absolutely nothing for a night.

Or she is until she finds out that Bellamy also doesn’t have plans for New Year’s Eve.

Keep reading

Badly

Jungkook x reader

theme:Jungkook and you always had tension between and one time he comes out of the shower and you are in the room…so things get a little steamy

requested by: taetaesbooty

genre: smut

word count: 5.5K


“I’m so excited!“Jimin said suddenly.

Everyone else agreed but you.
“I would be equally excited if I wasn’t fucking suffocating between these two.“you grunted trying to make yourself more room.

“Y/N no swearing!“Hoseok scolded you at what you just rolled your eyes.

Currently you were sitting in a car, struggling between Hoseok and Taehyung, while Yoongi was driving, Jimin sitting in the seat next to him.

“I just don’t understand why I couldn’t go in the other car? There would be room for everyone!“you said, still fighting elbows with Taehyung.

“Because I want my sister to be with me in the car!“Hoseok exclaimed.

Keep reading

Find You (Part 3)

Summary: Bucky has moved into a new apartment, not knowing that its previous tenant thinks they still live there. And he’s the only one that can see them.

Word Count: 1,215

Warnings: None.

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this very short third part! Let me know :D Things are about to get even better, I promise!

Originally posted by sebjpeg


Bucky kept his promise to you, getting up early the next morning and sitting down with you at his dining room table. Slowly chewing on his cereal, he looks at you and quirks a brow.

“Do you remember what happened before you woke up in my bathroom?”

You narrow your eyes at him, not missing the different pronunciation when it came to him declaring whose bathroom it was. Yet, your mind tries to travel further back than you crying in the bathroom, and you come up blank.

Keep reading

Air B&E (reader x Bucky)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, unnamed Male Target, OFC Jeff. 

Summary: When a mission requires close proximity with your least favorite teammate, you try to make the best of it, but a change in plans adds new challenges and possibly a new opportunity. ( basically Bed Sharing Trope meets Enemies to Lovers Trope. Kinda.  :D )

Warnings: sexual situations? pretty vague.  

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: Hey, ya’ll !! I’m back from vacation and the idea for this fic was sparked by my sleeping accommodations. heh. I kinda fell in love with it and even made time to write in the evenings after being super tired from traveling. I hope you enjoy this and any feedback is appreciated! Love you guys!! :)

Masterlist

___________________________________________________

Originally posted by bovaria

“Alright! So here are the keys, the WiFi password is posted on the fridge and let me know if there’s anything you need, anything at all. Okay?” said the overly enthusiastic young man before you.

You accepted the keys with a smile, “Absolutely! Thank you so much, Jeff. It’s even better than the pictures.”  

“I’m so glad,” he grinned. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was so nice to meet you both.”

Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, tight smile upon his face. “You, too, man,” he coolly responded.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you clasped the hand of the heavy left arm draped over your shoulders. Technology allowed the metal plates to be shielded with a holographic flesh arm, but it still weighed a ton.

“Bye, Jeff.”

He nodded before stepping out into the hall. The moment the front door lock engaged, you shoved the arm off and put as much space between you two as possible.

“This plan is stupid,” Bucky said with contempt as he collapsed heavily onto the couch.

Keep reading

Miss Yeh

Harry X Reader: Smut

In which Harry has been deprived for too long.

Request? No


“’M losing my fuckin’ mind.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Harry.”

“’M not, am I?” He glares at you, lips turned down deeply at the corners, voice rising in offense. “’S been nearly three weeks since I got to touch yeh.”

“You know why.” Your voice has softened some. You know what he means. The weeks of limited interaction have been equally torturous for you. But there’s a reasonable cause, and you really don’t want to get him into trouble.

“Yeah, I know,” he huffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “Doesn’ mean I like it.”

Keep reading

Pack Mother - Derek Hale

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Liam Dunbar, Isaac Lahey, PackMom!Y/N.

This is going to be a full series but I thought I’d give a disclaimer to prevent any confusion. This is kind of an AU where characters that left the show are still in the pack, just for more of a family vibe.

You walk into your home, your arms full of groceries. “Y/N! You’re here! Stiles got hurt and-” Scott looked up at you desperately.

You dropped the bags on the floor, your instincts kicking in. You kneel in front of Stiles and he smiles at you weakly.

“There you are. I told Scott you’d get here before I died.”

You stroke his hair. “Hush. You’ll be fine.” You kiss his forehead. “You feel warm. Scott get me the thermometer.”

The boy nods and heads to the bathroom.

You examine the gunshot wound in his chest, you put pressure around it but he flinches. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Trust me?” You caress his cheek and he nods. You yell at Scott to grab you some gloves and alcohol while he’s in the bathroom. He returns with everything and you put the gloves on before taking Stiles’ temperature. “It’s 102. You may have an infection.” You sigh as you flip the lid of the alcohol open. “This is going to hurt…and I’m sorry.” You wince as you begin pouring some of the liquid on his wound. Stiles screams in pain and you look at him sympathetically. “It’ll feel better when I’m done. You won’t die, Stiles.” You feel in the hole in his chest for the bullet. “Scott, help me flip him.” Scott nods and you push Stiles over. You take his jacket off and cut his shirt open. “It’s a clean shot. You’ll be fine.” You breathe out in relief.

You send Scott to find you a needle and thread while you tend to Stiles. You’re alerted when a man walks into your house. He looks vaguely familiar but you’re at a loss. “Can I…help you?” You stand up and look at the man in your doorway.

He smiles as you approach him. “Hi..I’m Derek Hale. Scott called me.”

So that’s Derek Hale. You knew you knew him. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.” You smile before returning to Stiles. Scott walks in and hands you the supplies before going to talk to Derek. You begin stitching Stiles up, trying to comfort him.

You weren’t exactly sure when it had happened, it just sort of did. You’d become the pack mother. Every pack has either a mother or a father figure aside from the alpha that everyone imprints on. In this case even Stiles had grown close to you. You were a couple years older but you loved them. They practically lived with you and even though you’d gone to school with some of them, you were like a second mother.

You finished the stitches and went to the kitchen to get Stiles a drink. You returned and propped him up on a pillow. “Drink.” You hand him the bottle.

He tries to give it back. “I’m not thirsty.”

“You’re going to drink the water or I will open your mouth and pour it down. Now drink.” You push the water back to him and cross your arms. He sighs and takes a sip. “More, Stiles.” You warn and he rolls his eyes. He drinks more and you turn to Scott. “He should be fine, as long as he does what I tell him to.”

“Thank God. I couldn’t take him to the ER because of my mom. Thank you so much.” He hugged you and you smiled.

“Of course, Scott. That’s what I’m here for. Is everyone coming for dinner?” You both pull away and Scott nods. “Derek, do you want to stay?” You smile at him and he nods.

“Sure.”

“Wow. Sourwolf has had a change of heart.” You hear Stiles say quietly.

“Stiles lay down and be quiet” You say as you look over your shoulder. He does as you say and you look back to Derek.

“How do you get them to listen so well?” He chuckles.

“She’s the pack mother. This is the Y/N I was telling you about.”

Derek nods. “You are great with them, Scott tells me a lot.” He smiles.

“I’ve always been a motherly person so I guess it’s just natural.” You hear Isaac enter with Jackson and Lydia.

“Take your shoes off.”

“How do you know they aren’t already off?” Isaac asks.

“Are they?” You smirk at Derek as he watches you interact.

“Maybe. What do you think?” You can practically see the goofy grin on his face.

“Judging by the way the three of you are walking I’d say no. Heavy-footed geniuses.” You turn to look at them, all of them with their shoes intact. “What did I tell you?”

Isaac laughs and you glance back at Stiles. He gives you a thumbs up and you smile.

Everyone else arrived and you were cleaning the kitchen after dinner. Derek was helping while the others watched TV.

“So, how does it feel to be a beta to an alpha in high school?“ You teased Derek.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He smiles.

You laugh. “Touché. I am the pack mother though, that has to count for something.” You turn your attention the Liam and Issac play wrestling. You hear everyone making bets. “Boys!” You cross your arms and everyone turns to look to you.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Liam and Isaac say in unison.

You turn back to Derek. “So why haven’t we ever met?” You hop onto the counter and face him.

“I’m not sure? It’s kind of strange considering we’re in the same pack.” You both laugh. “I’ll tell you what, let me take you out to dinner and we’ll get to know each other better.” Derek smiles.

“Hmm. I might just have to take you up on that.”

“Tomorrow at eight?”

You grin. “It’s a date.”

Scott turns his head. “You guys are going on a date? I didn’t think you’d get along.”

“And I didn’t think you were nosey.” You give him a look and he quickly turns back around.

You’d given Derek your number and he had texted you the next morning to tell you to dress up. You figured you’d go with your slinky blue dress and black heels. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone when you heard a knock at the door. You opened the door and you were greeted by Derek.

“Hey.” He breathed out, taking in the sight of you. “You look gorgeous.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

“You ready to go?” He asks, holding his hand out to you. You nod and take his hand, following him to his car. He opens your door and helps you in.

When you arrived at the restaurant he lead you inside. You sat down and he smiled at you.

“I just find it so weird that we didn’t meet until yesterday.” Derek says.

“I know. I’ve been apart of the pack for a few months and I’d only heard your name.”

“Well, I hope you heard good things about my name.” He smiles.

“Mostly..aside from a few comments from Stiles.” You laugh.

“That makes sense.” He grins. “When did they all imprint on you?”

You take a sip of your drink. “About…a month and a half ago. It happened when Scott got hurt. He’d gotten bit pretty badly and he wasn’t healing.”

“Yeah, I remember that. Nobody would let me see him.” Derek nods.

“That’s because I wouldn’t let anyone in.” You smile. “He was under my constant care. I didn’t sleep for weeks while I was watching him. Scott imprinted and everyone else followed suit.”

Derek smiles. “I’ve never met a pack mother so…”

“Young?” You smile and he nods.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it…to be honest with you I think it’s very attractive.” He smirks.

“Really? That’s good to know. I’ll have to be extra motherly when you’re around.” You laugh.

When your date’s finished Derek drops you off at home. He walks you to your door.

“I had a really great time tonight.” He smiles at you.

“Me too. We will definitely have to do this again.” You nod as you unlock your door. “I’m doing pack dinner again tomorrow if you want to come.”

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiles. “Bye, Y/N.” He heads for his car and you go inside.

He didn’t kiss you. Did you do something wrong? That was probably the best date you’ve ever had. You go to bed that night with Derek clouding your thoughts.