i had to sit in a parking lot for an hour on the side of a bay

“You’re?” [Jason Todd x Reader]

Requested by anon: “Could you do one where Jason and reader were best friends when he was robin and them reuniting after he comes back to life”

A/n: Okay so I’m diving back into my requests finally. I’m hoping this is going to be the start of me getting back into a normal rhythm again and I appreciate you guys all hanging in there with me. I hope you enjoy this. I wasn’t sure how to take after they reunite but I wanted fluff so I give fluff lol. Thanks guys! <3

There’s a large portion in italics that’s a flash back.

______

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked down the cold Gotham street. Your hands were shoved deep in your jacket pockets as you watched your breath form in front of you. Walking the streets was a habit when sleep didn’t come to you. The streets didn’t scare you the way they do most. You’ve been trained to defend yourself by the big bad bat himself. How? Well Jason Todd was your best friend when he was Robin. That was until the Joker took him from you, from life.

A lot of times you’d remember favorite memories with Jason on these walks, like when you first met. Your childhood apartment had a balcony and often times you’d sneak out there at night to look at the city. Though it was a surprise when Robin landed on your balcony with a thud one night.

You smiled at the memory. The way he laughed at the way you yelped, but apologized after. Explaining how he had misjudged the distance of a jump and came tumbling onto your balcony. Little did you know at the time, you would learn his identity and become the best of friends. Also that you would end up learning some hand to hand from the big bad bat himself. Saying having learned who they were, you should know how to protect yourself.

Internally you thank them for that, it makes you not scared to walk the streets at night. “Oh Jason” muttering as your steps stay in their rhythm. It’s not often you don’t feel the pain of missing your best friend. He was so very important in your life, he always knew what you were thinking and you him. No matter what the problem he had your back, so many people thought you were bound to be a couple. Often you both would laugh at the idea, though now being older it didn’t sound so silly.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you continued to walk, rounding the last corner that led to you apartment. This time a different memory came to your mind. Before Jason had went to that warehouse, he came to you first. You remember is like it was just the other day:

Laying in bed you flipped the page of a new book you had gotten. It had you completely enthralled and your attention until a light knock came from your window. Setting it down you opened the curtains to see Jason smiling at you in his Robin uniform.

Pushing the window open you asked, “What are you doing here?” He easily slipped in the window. “[F/n] I think my mother’s alive.” Your eyes widened at the statement, “What makes you say that?”

“I got this tip that she’s in Ethiopia, but [F/n] this is my real mother. I guess I was adopted, I have to go find her.” He said with a hopeful tone to his voice. You knew of his past and the hardships he’s endured. “But Jason, what if this is a trap? A lot of people want to hurt you, how can you be sure?” Trying to reason with the idea only made him angry with you. “I thought you of all people would support me on this.” He grumbled while pushing past you to go back to the open window.

“Jason wait” Grabbing his hand you stopped him. “I do support you I just worry too, you’re my best friend, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His demeanor slackened. “I know, and nothing is going to happen. I’ll be back, I promise.” Saying as he pulled you in for a hug, though he seemed to linger a bit before pulling away and heading out the window. “Stay safe Jason”

That hug was the last memory you had of him. The next thing you remember involving Jason was Dick coming to you to explain to you what happened. After that everything got a lot harder. At school people treated you like glass, at home you didn’t leave your room.

Things got a little easier over time, easy enough for you to go to college. Gotham University to be exact. After all those night helping with injuries, you decided you want to help people and took up Emergency Medicine. A rather hard field but that’s what you want to do. At this point you knew quite a bit of the medical field.

Walking up to the doors of your apartment building, your phone rang. Looking at the screen it showed a caller ID you had not seen in years. ‘Bruce Wayne’

Quickly clicking the answer button you brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“[F/n], we have an emergency and I need your help.” You were shocked at the statement but you couldn’t tell him no. “Oh, um, of course Mr. Wayne. How can I help?”

“I need you at the manor now. Someone’s hurt and Alfred isn’t here at the moment. I know you’ve been studying medicine. We need you.” You could tell he’s desperate. You haven’t talked to him and the rest of them in years. “I’m on my way.”

Hurriedly you grabbed your keys out of your purse and ran to where your car was parked. During the drive to the manor you may or may not have broken a few traffic laws, but you’re only in trouble if you get caught. As soon as your call pulled up Dick was waiting at the door for you.

Rushing out of the car he waved for you to hurry. “What happened? Who’s hurt?” Asking as he ushered you into the house. “No time to explain. Just three bullet wounds, one to the shoulder, another to the thigh, but the one we’re worried about is one to the abdomen. Also shrapnel from an explosion.” He explained as you both rushed down the stairs of the cave. “What the hell were you doing tonight?”

“Long story just hurry.” Dick led you down into the cave, hurrying you to the medical bay of it.

On a medical bed you saw the Red Hood lying there out cold. His helmet was cracked and his armour cut off his chest. Tim was applying pressure to the bullet wound on his abdomen

“Okay, I don’t know how he’s still alive but I need morphine, sterile needles and thread, tweezers, and a lot of sterile towels.” Ordering as Dick nodded and ran to get the things you needed. Tim backed away as you took over. As soon as Dick came back you went to work, the wounds on his shoulder and thigh were through and through, something Bruce stitched up as you worked on the more fatal injury. Having had to locate the bullet and remove it, before repairing the damage to the tissue and skin. After that you went to work on removing the shrapnel Dick had mentioned, luckily none of it was to the chest, only to his arm and leg. It took a few hours but you got him stable leaving the others grateful.

“Can I count this toward my schooling as extra credit or something. Saving the life of a vigilante?” Asking while peeling off your medical gloves. Dick and Tim chuckle as Bruce allowed a smile. Turning back to the masked man you noticed his cracked helmet. “You should let me check his face, make sure nothing there is hurt. No broken nose or anything.”

“Oh, uh, maybe when he comes to. You understand that–” Dick began but you cut him off. “it isn’t your secret to give up. Yeah, I understand” Remembering how Jason used those same words when you questioned who Nightwing and Batman were. Though you eventually put the pieces together on your own.

“Coffee?” Dick offered, gesturing upstairs. Nodding you followed him and Tim but Bruce hung beside in the cave.

Bruce sighed as he sat beside Jason. They were on better terms at this point but they still didn’t quite see eye to eye. Though Bruce felt guilty because Jason almost lost his life again tonight. Thank goodness he had been keeping tabs on you and knew of your studies.

As you chatted upstairs Bruce contemplated whether to tell you or not about Jason being right here in front of him. Jason had said he wanted to see you again but didn’t want to make you affiliate with what he had become. Though Bruce knows that he’s just making excuses as to not have to face you. After he promised to come back but never did. Also Bruce knew about Jason’s newfound feelings toward you.

It had been about 2 hours until Jason began to come to. In those two hours the four of you took shifts staying down in the cave with him. Though you sat down there the longest knowing the three of them deserved some well needed sleep. His groan in was caught your attention.

Noticing him trying to sit up you met his bed side. “Take it easy, you’re pretty torn up.” Saying in a calm voice as he looked at you. Jason couldn’t believe his eyes. It was you, a more mature you, but it was still you. He wouldn’t forget your voice or eyes anywhere.

“[F/n]” He breathed out, not realizing how you didn’t know how he knew you. “How do you know my name?” You let out a small laugh. “Oh um, never mind. Did you?” He asked gesturing to his bandage ridden form. Nodding you replied, “I did”

He seemed to stare at you from behind his mask and you cleared your voice, “Um, if you don’t mind. I should check to make sure nothing on your face is broken.” Saying with a certain nervousness.

“Oh uh, no I-I can’t.” He stumbled over his words but stopped when you placed a hand on his arm. “I won’t tell anyone. I know everyone’s identities, I was even friends with the Robin that took up the mantle after Nightwing. You can trust me.

Jason was having a battle with himself on the inside. Should he tell you or not? Though he didn’t think when he nodded. Smiling you reached to remove the helmet. He forgot how much he loved your smile. How much he loved your voice and your eyes. How much he loved you. Though he didn’t realize it before he left to go to Ethiopia. He realized it when his last thought was you.

Gently removing the helmet you were soon met with very familiar cerulean eyes, along with a familiar but face and his raven black hair gained a white streak through it. Voice catching in your throat as you realized who it was. “You’re?”

“It’s me [F/n]” Tears welled up in your eyes as you covered your mouth. “You’re alive” crying while wrapping your arms around him. He winced a little but wrapped his arms around you. “I’m so sorry. I-I should’ve came and found you as soon as I came back.”

“Back from where? I thought you died Jason.” Asking while pulling away, he wiped your tears away. “I did, but I was revived by the Lazarus Pit. I’m so sorry [F/n], I promised you I’d be okay and would come back. But the Joker he..” Jason trailed off. You shook your head, “I’m just so happy you’re back. I missed you so much Jason.”

He smiled while pushing your hair out of your face. “[F/n], I have to tell you something. I realized this right before I died and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner.”

“What is it?” You questioned while wiping the tears from your cheeks.

He hesitated before saying, “I love you.”

Your heart stopped when he said those words. Eyes staring into his you didn’t know what to say, “What?”

“I love you [F/n], I’ve loved you for so long but I was too immature to see it.” He shook his head and took your hands. “Jason I..”

His expression fell slightly, “I understand if you don’t feel the same.” You shook your head, “No, no it’s not that. It’s just sudden.” He nodded, beginning to believe he had made you uncomfortable. “But, I do care for you in that way and I’ve been on my way to falling in love with you Jason.” Saying as you took his face in your hands, a smile having taken over your features. His demeanor turning into a joyful one once more.

Before you could do anything he leaned forward and connected his lips to yours in a sweet meaningful kiss. Pulling away he grinned a wide dorky grin that matched your own. “Yes, I’m on the trail to falling in love with you.”

Home

Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: So I was listening to some of my old favorite songs form my childhood, and one in particular inspired me to write another Logan fic because I love him so much. Anyways, this was inspired by Blake Shelton's “Austin”, and I hope you like it~

Summary: After the reader and Logan get in their first big fight, the reader goes back to her home town. After stopping all contact with Logan for months, the reader decides she needs Logan in her life and finally calls him. 

Warnings: Language

Also, written with female pronouns but please don’t take offense! That’s just the way I naturally write, but I am open to writing with any desired pronouns, so just lemme know! 

Originally posted by jumpingxjackxflash

Rainy days reminded you of Logan. They reminded you of the way he used to wrap you up in his leather jacket, and how he would lift you over puddles. They reminded you of the way he would tuck your wet hair behind your ears, and the way his warm hands felt against your cold ones. Rainy days reminded you of Logan sitting next to you by the window, drinking coffee and listening to the rain as it hit the streets. Rainy days were peaceful days you got to spend with someone you loved, at least they used to be. 

Now, as you sat on a lone bench at the park down the street from your house, all rainy days reminded you of was how much you missed him. The loud booming sound of thunder erupted all around you, telling you it was time to go home. You reluctantly stood from the bench, the smell of rain filling your nostrils as you began to walk from the park, glancing towards your house, but walking in the other direction instead.

The rain droplets hitting your face were reminders, reminders of how bad you had messed up. You left without a word, not saying where you were going, or if you had intentions of ever coming back, and it took you months to figure out how badly you missed your home. How badly you missed Logan. 

You walked down the street quickly, passing familiar homes and shops along the way. Everyone inside probably thought you were insane trudging through the rain, soaking wet. You didn’t care. The straight singular street quickly led you to the old, beaten up phone booth that still barely stood. You quickly stepped inside, slamming the door shut and reaching for the phone. You now realized how bad your hands were shaking, you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or your bundled up emotions. 

For some reason using a phone other than your own gave you closure, maybe it was because the thought was less intimidating. Regardless, you put in the needed amount of money and slowly dialed Logan’s number, you still had it memorized. As the phone rang, your could hear your heartbeat. You didn’t know what you would say if he picked up. All you knew was that you were doing the right thing. After a couple more rings Logan’s voice erupted from the other end of the phone, but it wasn’t what you were expecting. 

“When do I say it?” his voice sounded, quickly followed by one none other than your own. 

“Now,” your voice came out in a laugh.

“Oh uh, this is Logan I’m busy right now, leave a message,” his voice vibrated through your ear. 

“Good job,” you said, but the words weren’t coming out of your mouth.

A beep sounded from the other end of the phone and without really thinking, you mumbled some words.

“Call me back when you can,” you said, leaving your phone number afterwards before slamming the phone onto where it belonged. 

You sank to the ground slowly, not caring about the cobwebs sitting all around you. You had forgotten about setting up Logan’s voicemail, and now the thought of how happy you were was devastating. Before you knew it, your cheeks were wet, and not only because of the rain. You practically sprinted back to your house, wishing the rain was enough to wash away all of your emotions. You thought that coming back to your home town was a good idea, but now all of your memories were just haunting you. 

As you reached your small rented house you fumbled your key into the lock before charging inside and slamming the door behind you. You were happy you at least rented a house instead of staying with your parents, but now you wanted nothing more than too leave. You shed off your soaking wet jacket, along with your shoes and flopped onto your couch, burying your face in a pillow. You wanted Logan to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay, but that couldn’t happen anymore. 

You didn’t know how long you laid there, could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours, but what you do know is that the only thing that moved you from that position was the ringing of your phone. Your stomach dropped and you stood up, walking over to your phone quickly. You couldn’t think of anyone that could be calling you, except for Logan. Before letting yourself not go through with it, you answered your phone. 

“Hello,” your voice said tentatively. 

“(Y/N)?” a voice you missed so much came from the other end.

You ran your free, shaky hand through your hair.

“Logan I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have left, I messed up, I messed up big time,” you began your ramble. “I miss you. I never stopped loving you Logan, never. I was just blind and it took me until now to realize it.”

“(Y/N)?” Logan questioned again, interrupting your rant. 

“I…yeah?” 

“Calm down before you say anything else. I haven’t heard your voice in forever, and hearing it like this isn’t what I expected,” Logan said, his voice giving you reassurance.

You did as he said, letting out a deep breath before returning your attention to your phone.

“I’m sorry,” You said simply.

“(Y/N) you left without giving me a way to find you, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been thinking about this moment ever since I realized you were gone. I miss you (Y/N),” Logan said, his voice full of raw emotion. 

“I thought that what I was doing was for the better… I just want to come home,” you mumbled into the phone. 

“The house isn’t like it was before you left you know.”

“I’m not talking about the house Logan. You’re my home,” You said.

You could hear Logan gulp on the other line, he didn’t say anything for a moment. It was as though he was trying to contain his emotions threatening to rush out all at once. 

“When’s the next flight you can catch?” he finally managed.


The last couple hours of your life had been the most hectic thing you had ever lived through. In mere hours you packed everything you needed, contacted your land lord, and bought a plane ticket. You still had some stuff to figure out, but you would deal with it later, right now you only had one thing on your mind. 

You sat in your seat anxiously, the plane ride didn’t give you anxiety, landing did. Months of emotion bubbled in your gut, ready to explode, but excitement kept them at bay. It was probably minutes, but it only felt like seconds until your plane was on the ground and you were grabbing your bags. Two suitcases, that was all you needed. You hurried as quickly as you could outside of the airport. Logan said he would pick you up when your plane landed. 

Sure enough, as you exited the airport you saw an old pick-up truck that you knew all too well, only it was missing a driver. You quickly scanned the crowd of people in front of your face before spotting him. As soon as you laid your eyes on Logan everyone else in the crowd disappeared. His familiar flannel with the rolled up sleeves made your heart clench, and you dropped your bags at your sides. It took a moment, but Logan finally laid his eyes on you. His eyes widening, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile as you pushed through people towards him. Logan had the same idea, moving through the crowd as swiftly as he could manage, it was as though the two of you were in a trance. 

Once there was no one in between you two and the space was growing smaller, Logan opened his arms and you barreled into them. 

“Hey Sweetheart,” Logan said as he wrapped his strong arms around your bodice. 

You balled your fists in his shirt and buried your face into his chest, letting the tears swelling in your eyes fall onto his shirt. Logan’s grip tightened on you as he noticed the shaking in your body. He missed you like hell. Logan placed a kiss on your forehead, and slowly you pulled away from him. 

“We should probably grab your bags,” Logan said, smiling down at you.

You nodded, thankful for the silent conversation that passed between the two of you. I messed up, but we’ll talk about that later. Logan slid his hand into yours, and the two of you walked towards your things. There was a million things you could’ve said, but you felt that silence was more appropriate. As you reached your things, that you had rudely abandoned, Logan grabbed one bag and you grabbed the other, still holding onto each other. 

Logan helped you put your things into the bed of the pick-up, and you noticed the clouds beginning to form in the sky. With a shrug you filed into the truck next to Logan, sitting in the middle so that you could lay your head on his shoulder as he drove. 

“You alright?” Logan asked you as he pulled out of the airport parking lot.

“I’m better than I have been for months,” you said, clasping your hands in your lap.

Logan laughed beside you, and you raised your eyebrow, sitting up to give him a weird look.

“What?” you asked.

Logan looked into your eyes before returning his gaze to the road, “Nothing, I just forgot how damn cute you are.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder again. Your drive was fairly long, but time felt like it flew by as you talked to Logan. The two of you quickly pulled into your small home’s driveway. Logan stepping out of the truck and opening your door for you, offering his hand to help you down, which you took gratefully. As the two of you grabbed your bags out of the bed, you felt a rain droplet hit your nose, followed by three more hitting your shoulders. 

Logan handed you one of your bags, taking the other, and quickly leading you to the front door. Logan unlocked it quickly, opening the door for you and following you in afterwards. When Logan said the house wasn’t like it was before you left he wasn’t lying. Almost everything was rearranged and certain pieces of furniture were missing. You turned your attention from the room to Logan.

“I uh, didn’t have anyone to impress since you were gone,” Logan gestured to the room, “It’s easier to clean this way.”

You laughed, “I don’t mind.”

The smell of your home put you at ease, and with Logan you walked towards your bedroom, which was in the exact same condition it was before you left, only Logan’s side of the bed was ruffled.

“I couldn’t bring myself to change anything in here,” Logan muttered behind you, placing your suitcase on the bed. 

You didn’t say anything, you just laid your suitcase down and walked over to Logan, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I missed you,” you said. 

Logan grinned at you, putting his hands on your waist and lowering his head to place a kiss on your lips. 

“You took the words right out of my mouth Princess,” he said, pulling apart from you, but grabbing your hand. 

The rain outside had become more audible, and as Logan led you to the large window beside your bed, the sound sent chills down your spine. The two of you sat next to the window just like you used to. Logan pulled you to his chest, and you leaned into him comfortably. Once again, the two of you listened to the rain hit the streets.

Logan ran his fingers through your hair, “Welcome home.”

Rucas AU | The Bet [11]

[ Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten]

Prompt: After damaging $1000 worth of private property on a dare Lucas needs a quick way to make the money to pay the guy back. When Charlie Gardner suggests a bet Lucas takes him up on his offer. And what is the bet? Get into the pants of Riley Matthews, the schools very own goody two-shoes princess.
AN: The next chapter is the final chapter.  
Word Count: 2,015
Chapter: 11

♡ ♡ ♡

How things have changed in just a few short weeks. It was a sunlit day of early spring, and the sky held a soft blue glow. Spring Break was finally here and Riley walked barefoot on the weed filled front lawn, looking for wild flowers she loved. She was never much of a rose person, not that she didn’t appreciate its beauty, it’s just that she was more in love with meadow flowers, with forget-me-nots and buttercups. The flowers people often overlooked due to the hype of the rose.

The scratchy green grass was warm under her bare feet and she was glad to be free of the confines of her running shoes. Who needed to run when walking felt so blissful? She stopped and closed her eyes so she could capture the moment of the sunlight on her skin. It was like a kiss of summer but without the fiery heat or beads of sweat. She opened her eyes and let the daylight flood back in, bringing the warm April day right back into focus.

To say she was glad winter was over would be an understatement. She loved the way snow looked when it found itself a home on trees and building tops but nothing made her feel more at peace than the calm slightly warm breeze of springtime. Which was exactly what she needed.

Lately, her mind had been beating itself up trying to figure out what to say to Lucas. She would get up the courage, march right over to him, open her mouth – and nothing would come out. It happened so many times this last month she was convinced she lost all ability to speak to him.

She couldn’t figure out what was holding her back. Farkle and Isadora made sure to put in their two cents, offering that maybe she was being prideful or maybe she was still harboring anger towards him for the mistake he made. But deep down Riley had her own inkling of what it could be. Plain and simple? She missed him. Missing him meant she was vulnerable, and the last thing she wanted was to open herself up once more, let him in again just to have her heart shattered into a million little jagged pieces.

She sighs as she flops down onto the grass, squinting up at the sky, watching birds above her fly back and forth without a care in the world. She envied that.

The smallest of the birds spiraled over her before disappearing into a tree. “Show off.” She mumbles under her breath.

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High School AUs (based on real experiences I’ve had) pt. 1

I know no one asked for this, but I kind of wanna share these wild rides with someone, so here goes lol


1. I was waiting to get picked up after staying at school for a Shakespeare lecture, and you were waiting to get picked up after band practice. A dog suddenly ran past us in the parking lot, so we debated whether or not we should tell anyone.

2. I saw you getting really uncomfortable because of Creepy Tom not leaving you alone, so I swooped in and pretended I needed you for an emergency.

3. We tutor freshman in the same time slot every week, so we always go together to pick up the students from their classes and sometimes end up just talking shit with them instead of doing any work.

4. Your best friend and my best friend used to date, and they only broke up really recently, so they still kind of have feelings for each other. We end up joining them when your best friend is trying to win mine back, so we spend like an hour sharing exasperated looks.

5. We’ve known each other for three years and you stop by every day to steal my pretzels, since I never eat them, and one day I forget to pack them and you get super offended. You end up dragging me to the store, so you can buy pretzels for yourself and gummy worms for me.

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Searching

Prompt: “I can’t believe you found my dog! Please take this reward.”         Pairing: Bucky x Reader                                                                           Summary: Your best friend is lost, thanks to a snafu at your apartment complex. Your hunt to find her leads you to a smooth-talking army vet. P.s. there is a little cursing.                                                                         Categories: Angst (over losing your pet), flirty fluff                                             This is my entry for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5k au challenge!

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

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Sleep - pt 17

Originally posted by jminies

There was a junk yard in Dallas that got rid of cars for free. The owner seemed confused and wondered why you guys would want to get rid of a perfectly functioning car, but he didn’t ask questions.

You watched as Hoseok’s pride and joy was crushed to pieces. The rides to the hiking trails flooded your mind until Jimin wrapped an arm around your waist and walked you along the road, back towards the busy streets.

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anonymous asked:

Any more boomer headcannons? Thanks ily

YA’LL DO KNOW THAT DIGGER IS MY HUSBAND?  I could talk about him for hours and hours  💖 Golly gosh so thank you for this omg ily2

Originally posted by heartofdevastation

More Captain Boomerang Head Cannons!

(Here is a link to the first set I did in case ya’ll haven’t read them) 💖

  • He is a lot more intelligent than he comes off
  • Like, man is a fucking genius!  How do you think he comes up with all of these robbery plans and never gets caught? 
  • Breaking into some of these places includes WEEKS of planning and preparation!  He has to figure out the best way to evade security guards, how to get past the alarm system (which includes doing some intense computer work/hacking), plus he has to consider the best escape route - He can’t exactly just walk down the street with a giant duffle bag of stolen goodies!
  • Is actually a computer genius
  • Honestly, Digger could probably figure out a way to check his email from an old broken Game boy Advance SP he found in a dumpster
  • Reasons Digger has an email: 1) Sell some of the jewels he steals and needs an email to strike up deals/negotiate payment or swap locations, 2) He has an Amazon.com account so he can buy his goddamn Timtams, 3) To get his monthly news-letter of Unicorns-R-The-Bomb.com fan club
  • When he is tired the man will literally fall asleep anywhere
  • Like, one time he fell asleep in a goddamn dumpster while he was hiding from the authorities after he had accidentally triggered the alarm, which is a very rare thing for him to do but his is human baby boy makes mistakes and had to wait it out until the coast was clear
  • He is the kind of dude that will just be sitting on a bench at a public park, the weather nice and JUST right, next thing you know he’s asleep sitting up just sleeping away
  • lets be honest he is always on the move so he hardly gets a REAL good night of sleep so baby is always a little tired
  • Digger totally snores js
  • Probably talks in his sleep too, hell, he fights in his sleep!
  • Say you’re his s/o and ya’ll are all snuggled into bed and he fell into a deep deep sleep, but you were like watching a movie or something so you’re still awake, and all of a sudden you notice him start tossing and turning and breathing a little faster - but you don’t wanna wake him up just yet in case it passes quickly, and then BAM he just starts erratically punching the air in front of him and yelling like he’s in a fist fight… So yea, a sleep fighter omg
  • Will totally wake up his s/o up in the middle of the night for some midnight fun (;
  • Like, even if it is like 4 AM and you’ve been sleeping for hours, his annoying ass will start rubbing your sides and nibbling your neck to wake ya up
  • “Awwh, common now Sheila, play with me I ain’t gettin’ a wink of sleep..”
  • But it’s okay cause he’ll do all the work he just needed permission first 
  • Really likes big block buster action films tbh
  • Face/Off is his all time favorite movie
  • Also really likes Michael Bay movies
  • Pretty much any movie with tits and explosions are his thing lmao
  • Yea, he’s a bit rude but he is an EXCELLENT customer
  • Like, when he goes to eat at a diner late at night (Like a Waffle House or some shit) he’ll just sit quietly and eat his meal and will leave the nice waitress like a $200 tip if he liked the service
  • Probably only has like, 4 outfits, and they the same variation of the same one
  • Really loves his look - Like, the way his facial hair is shaped and his ‘edgy’ hair cut and thinks he is the epitome of cool
  • Like, if he can’t find some place to crash (Like, idk, there aren’t any rooms at the local motel if he is in a smaller town) he’d totally just hook up with some chick at a bar and crash at her place
  • Low-key thinks he could get into anyone’s pants if he really wanted too
  • It would take a REALLY strong and feisty person to ever make a honest man out of Mr. Harkness
  • He doesn’t think he’s worthy of a long term relationship, so he’s sort of a man-whore
  • Like, it’d have to be someone who can keep up with him mentally (Because he is SUPER smart and over analyzes everything) as well as be able to put up with his shit
  • He needs someone who will not be afraid to punch him square in the fucking jaw for being a dickweed but will also be understanding when he didn’t mean to fuck up - there’s a difference between being an intention ass and fucking up
  • Digger needs someone strong spirited and independent but also understanding and sweet
  • Digger needs someone who can take his bitching and moaning without getting their feelings hurt but can also grab him by the balls and tell him to literally shut the fuck up
  • When Digger falls for someone, he falls with every thing he’s got
  • He’ll daydream about that person, in the not so innocent of ways, and imagine what life would be like with them… Ya know, he he could have that type of life 
  • Like I said before in my first round head Boomie head cannons, he regrets his criminal life style and would like nothing more than to give it all away and live a quiet domestic life back in his home country and be at peace
  • He wishes he could just have an good hard working job and make an honest living
  • He wishes he could find that special someone in a normal yet charming way, bumping into them by accident in the street or in college (which he wished he had been able to do), and falling in love and having the cliche yet oh so wonderful experience of giving yourself completely to that person
  • He wishes he could get down on one knee and ask that person, who he would love with all his heart, to marry him and be his forever
  • He wishes he could settle down with that person and be a Father to his own children, a good father - Like the one he never had growing up 
  • He wishes he could have those quiet Sunday mornings where they all eat breakfast together at the table and listen as his children babble and grow to love each other so much
  • He wishes he could change… How he could take it all back and start anew..
  • But he’s made his peace with his life, no matter how much he regrets and woeful thoughts go through his head on some cold nights when he’s alone in some shit motel room surrounded in things he’s not earned but things he’s taken from others
  • He is what he is, he knows what he knows, and he’ll never stop, no matter how much it hurts
Tig Trager - I Can't Stop Loving You |Part 3|

-Five Years Ago-

Tig watched as the bikes rolled into the TM parking lot. There was about a dozen or so of them and all the riders were women. “Daughters of Anarchy” read their kuttes. They were the Sisterhood of the Sons. Their leader was the late sister of John Teller and wife to Clay’s brother, making her a Teller-Morrow as well.

But that wasn’t who had caught his eye, the woman whom had it was none other than Y/N Morrow. She was the VP of her Club and it showed.

Young, yes.
Beautiful, yes.
Deadly, hell yes.

She was a sight to envy and a woman you didn’t want to mess with as Tig had learned watching her growing up around the Club.

“Uncle Clay!”

She shouted as she came running up to Clay, who had turned around and laughed holding his arms out wide and welcomed her with a large bear hug. Tig smiled softly as he watched his Prez and the VP engulf each other before she planted a quick kiss on Clay’s cheek.

“Jack-a-boy!!”

She cheered as Jax came up and gave her a hug as well.

“Damn, you’ve grown up haven’t you? Gotten some killer muscles as well!”

Jax said laughing as he pinched at her arms. My eyes widened, damn Jax was right she did have some killer arms making her look even more like the type of woman you didn’t wanna mess with. Tig continued watching from his spot as she came around and hugged and greeted each of the guys. Bobby, Opei, Happy, Piney, Juice Chibs and then her last stop was Tig.

She looked up at him with a large smile and held out her arms. He swallowed hard as he opened his arms and wrapped them around her body, pulling her close.

“Meet me in your room in an hour.”

She whispered quickly before planting a kiss on the side of his cheek. When she pulled away Tig stood there in a daze but knowing why she wanted to see him in his room after a while.

After all this wasn’t her first time she requested this from him.

The hour seemed like it flew by after the drinks and welcome home party was in full swing. Tig had a few drinks to enjoy himself, but he kept the usual crows at bay, knowing that Y/N would have his neck if he were to try some any early action with a crow. They had a deal after all. When she was around Tig was hers and hers alone. But when she was gone he was free to play. It was a pretty sweet deal if you asked him.

When the hour was up he took a quick glance around the smoke filled room and didn’t see her, knowing that she must have been back in his room waiting on him. Making his way back to his room he found her sitting on the edge of his bed in nothing but her back underwear and her kutte on over her body.

Tig stood there with his mouth gaped and looking all over her delicious body. He closed the door behind him slowly, never breaking eye contact with her as he licked his lips.

“Damn baby. It’s been too long.”

The Storage Unit - Chapter 1

“The Storage Unit”: Chapter 1

By: @2momsmakearight

Rating: PG13

Summary: Just another secret Mulder has been keeping from Scully.

Spoilers: Takes place post TINH, and pre- DeadAlive

Notes: Written as part of the @txf-fic-chicks birthday challenge, this story has grown exponentially and will become the first part in a LARGER SERIES. No beta was used in the writing of this story, so all mistakes are mine. Be gentle, I’ve had awful writer’s block. But I’m glad to be back. I feel really excited about the prospects of this story and where it will go. Bummed it’s only rated PG-13? Don’t be. Buckle up, baby. This is only the beginning. 

—-

She sits in the rental car, nervously fidgeting in the passenger seat as they exit the highway. A hand absently rubs at the gentle swell of her belly, finally showing almost six months into her pregnancy. Agent Doggett and Skinner had both insisted on being with her for this trip, and while she had initially put up resistance, her stance firm and solid as she rebuked them of their chivalry, a little part of her was glad they were there, relieved even, afraid of what she might find in that storage locker.

It had been a fluke. Finding the bill. She normally threw out the junk mail that littered his mail box, but for whatever reason, she had decided to weed through it, separating the pizza coupons from the credit card offers from the mortgage refinance postcards. Even six weeks since his death, and five since he was taken, she still wasn’t ready to pack up his apartment. His estate paid the rent. She knew it was a waste of money, silly even to hold onto it like she was. But she didn’t care.  There were simply too many memories she wasn’t ready to let go of.

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Airports

Originally posted by omgjbmtjy-jsyjbbyk

“I fucking hate airports.” You huffed, placing down your luggage out from the car boot to the pavement. If it weren’t for the fact that there is no other way to go to Sydney for your long overdue holiday, there was no way you would be at the place you liked to call hell.

Jay merely gave you a sympathetic smile knowing exactly how much you hated airports, always opting for the road whenever you had to travel domestically. It didn’t matter whether planes had less travel times, at all cost you tried to avoid being in the airport. Unless of course you had. Like now.

Gingerly placing a soft reassuring kiss on your forehead, he took the luggage from you before placing it on the trolley. “It’s going to be okay. Before you know it we’ll be in Australia having a threesome with kangaroos.”

The look of disapproval on your face was evident, lips set on a deep frown and brows furrowed darkly. You never did find an appreciation in Jay’s way of trying to ease tensions. Though you did see through the sentiment of his words, not that your body language ever showed it.

“You can have threesomes with kangaroos. I’m having an orgy with Bondi Beach locals.” You retorted back, just before walking away to leave an overly dramatic Jay clutching his heart.

“No wait babe come back!” He shouted. “I changed my mind! I don’t want to go to Australia anymore!”

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Save The Vents

Of all the things Gordon Freeman has acquired a reputation for doing over the years—bludgeoning alien zombies with a crowbar, staring mutely at the characters emoting around him, applying his PhD to patronisingly simple Newtonian physics problems—I think the one I’d be most hesitant to do in real life is just crawling through a vent. You’re stuck in a dark, claustrophobic, maze-like space, getting a faceful of stale air blowing in from god-knows-where, and since you can’t turn around without a five week course in advanced body contortion, your only option when attacked from behind is to flail hopelessly and hope your buttocks don’t look too enticing. Oh yes, and as Mythbusters handily showed us, you can’t actually move anywhere without making enough noise to alert everybody in the building to your position, direction, and clumsy lack of progress.

Worst of all, in both real- and Half-Life, vents are just really bloody boring.

They are, though, aren’t they? Crawling through a vent in Half-Life is like being forced to walk down a very long, dark, featureless corridor with both your feet tied to a reluctant St. Bernard, and despite many efforts to the contrary, there are only so many ways you can spice up the experience before I begin to regard their entrances with the resigned sigh of a sewage technician who wore his good jeans to work on the day that the mains burst. The architecture is inherently dull, no matter how many dusty fans and offshoots you add, and unfortunately one set of metal duct panels looks more or less like any other set of metal duct panels, so meaningful navigation is out of the question. Combat encounters are limited to headcrabs leaping out in a fruitless attempt to surprise you, and puzzles aren’t even on the table. The only particularly interesting thing Valve has ever really done with vents is set-pieces, and even then, after the second or third one collapses out from underneath him, one can’t help wondering if Gordon needs to cut down on the headcrab hamburgers.

And yet it wouldn’t be Half-Life without vents. Vents are an icon of Half-Life, every bit as essential as the crowbar, and they didn’t earn that distinction just because somebody on the team got off on the thought of a theoretical physicist struggling to make headway in a cramped, sweaty, metal hole; they’re a fundamental tool of the level design, and Half-Life couldn’t have been the same game without them.

To understand vents, we have to realise that they are nothing more than the most common representation of a level design trope that gets used all throughout the Half-Life games. I dare say that professional level designers have some wonderful term for it, but since I’m just a hack with a desk covered in coffee stains and a hard drive full of lousy deathmatch maps, I’m going to call this trope the ‘intermediate space’. Intermediate spaces don’t show up on the map; they’re behind the walls, beneath the floors, above the ceilings. They’re the places that normal people are never supposed to traverse; the spaces that practically defined Gordon Freeman’s journey through the ruined Black Mesa: vents, pipes, chutes, wiring ducts, false ceilings, gangways, crawl-spaces, elevator shafts, rafters, dumbwaiters, maintenance holes, hatches and tunnels. They’re cramped, they’re dangerous, and they worm their way unseen throughout the facility, momentarily surfacing only to disappear back into its depths. Vents are simply the most famous and widespread of the litter.

Why does it matter if these spaces exist? To answer that, we have to realise that Half-Life’s level design—as well as the level design of the innumerable games that borrowed from it—is, at its heart, a compromise. To you and I, fans of the golden age of first-person shooters, the word ‘realism’ can leave a bit of a sour taste depending on your personal experiences, but in their own way, that’s exactly what Half-Life’s environments shot for. Whatever creative license the mad science of Black Mesa gave Valve, they were still frequently creating contemporary, believable spaces: offices, storage rooms, hallways, parking lots, bathrooms, warehouses, security checkpoints, all logically arranged and framed by sensible architecture. Black Mesa was supposed to feel realistic, unbroken, seamless, like a proper place, free of such fundamentally video-game-y concepts as 'levels’ or 'zones’.

Except you can’t really do that. No seriously, you can’t. If you want to make a linear first-person shooter with finely-balanced pacing and interesting combat encounters, the absolute last thing you want out of your level design—the abstract structure of the maps, not all the visual stuff that gets slapped into them—is realism. Architects don’t plan for gunfights; warehouse workers don’t arrange their cargo into stacks of cover. Buildings are supposed to facilitate free movement through them, not squeeze everybody through choke-points and one-way corridors. Half-Life is a twelve-hour-long tube with train rides at both ends, but does it feel like it? No, Black Mesa feels like a believable space in a way that few first-person shooter settings at the time could claim. It takes realistic architecture and carefully moulds it around areas, arenas, routes and transitions, like papier mâché around an unnerving wireframe skeleton, to create a space that superficially looks convincing but ultimately puts gameplay first.

But of course, as is usually the case with this kind of thing, the logic of the world doesn’t always fit snugly to the structure of the levels. Freeman enters the freezer through the door, but where’s he going to come out? How’s he going to get from this rocket exhaust tunnel to this train station, or from this office corridor to this cargo bay? With vents, and pipes, and crawl-spaces galore, that’s how. Are there structural conventions that ventilation systems ought to follow? Of course, but nobody knows or cares what they are. They can start anywhere and finish anywhere, needing nothing but a small section of flat wall and an unobstructed flow of air to seem believable. Intermediate spaces are the semicolons of Half-Life’s level design; an elegant way of having one space logically follow from another without having to explicitly show how they’re related. They are the paste that seals the cracks in the façade; the kind of all-purpose, industrial-strength filler that makes your nostril hairs shrivel up in disgust but grips like the jaws of death without so much as a seam.

But that’s far from the end of intermediate spaces’ virtues. One of their more interesting applications, exemplified in Office Complex and the chapter that follows it, We’ve Got Hostiles, is where they’re used not just as a way of smoothing out the transitions between areas, but as a way of making our perception of how those areas are spatially organised more nuanced. Y'see, the thing about Half-Life’s level design, especially in Black Mesa’s unending subterranean tunnels, is that it tends to sprawl like a sloshed middle-aged football fan on the Saturday night train; there’s no obligation to make rooms fit together snugly, so there’s a lot of negative space behind the walls that we just unconsciously assume is filled with something, be it inaccessible rooms, storage closets, maintenance cavities, or just a load of solid sedimentary rock. If I can be extra pretentious for a second, this negative space exists in a kind of quantum superposition of states; it could be any number of things, but since we can’t actually find out, it remains an amorphous mystery, framing the environments with the vague promise that there is, in some way, more to the facility than what you can see. Most of Half-Life follows this pattern: a linear sequence of areas worming their way through the void, surrounded by hints of a theoretical Black Mesa that’s a lot more structurally logical—or at least, was a lot more structurally logical, before everything went to hell.

Here and there, with the help of some cleverly-structured vents, we get a glimpse of that Black Mesa. Intermediate spaces aren’t just used as a means of transitioning from A to B, but from A back to A; they loop around, showing us the same places in a new light, revealing their subtle interconnectedness. Who can forget taking refuge from the military’s bombardment in an air duct only to peek through a grate below and see the storage bays from earlier in the chapter? Who can forget taking a detour through the cold room’s vents and emerging on the far side of the door that had previously stumped them? The false ceilings of the tacky fifties offices promise acres of hidden cavities, and multiple times you’ll fall through one only to find yourself in a familiar room. “Look,” the game whispers, beckoning tantalisingly. “Everything fits together, like a real building.” It peels back the walls, populates small pockets of the void, and lends the sense that the world beyond the playable space has, in some small way, coalesced into something more defined.

So yes, in spite of them sitting in the core gameplay experience like a lump of soggy tissue paper in a bowl of Weet-Bix, I’m glad that Half-Life has such an unshakeable love for vents. Sure, there are plenty of places where they could be supplanted by more visually interesting and diverse intermediate spaces, but none are as ubiquitous in the world or as flexible as the humble ventilation duct. It’s a workhorse of level design; not especially engaging in itself, but capable of adding layers of depth and authenticity to the environments of a linear, tightly-paced shooter that few of its contemporaries can claim to have achieved. In a perfect world, vents wouldn’t have to be prevalent in a Half-Life game; every area would flow seamlessly into another without breaking the illusion of believable architecture or destroying the level design, and you’d be subtly funnelled through the levels without their linear structure ever standing out. In our imperfect world, full of compromises and patch-jobs and necessary shortcuts, they’re the next best thing.

Use them sparingly though, alright? Please?

I Don’t Like You, Remember?

Chapter one of a bellarke high school au


Clarke’s mom had been remarried for close to four years now, but it was still the first time that her dad didn’t drop her off at the front of the school on her first day back. That alone was enough to ruin Clarke’s day, but it was her dread of seeing the one responsible that was already beginning to make her blood boil.

“Clarke.” Jasper waving his hand outside her window drew her out of her head. His voice was muffled by the glass between them. “Are you going to get out of the car or are you going to sit in there all day?”

Sit in here all day, she thought. Anything to keep her from facing Wells. She was afraid she might punch him too hard if they crossed paths, and it wasn’t out of pity for him either–she didn’t want to be held accountable if she did any damage to his head from impact.

Still, Clarke knew that holing herself away from the world wasn’t going to get her into med-school, so she opened the door against better judgement. “Jasper?” Her stepbrother was sitting crisscrossed on the parking-lot pavement, leaning with his back to the car and his messenger bag in his lap. “Why are you on the ground?”

He scrambled to his feet, taking care to wipe gravel from the back of his jeans. “I wasn’t sure when, or if, you were going to come out.”

“You didn’t have to wait for me, you know.” Clarke pressed a button on her keychain and the vehicle locked behind her.

Jasper shrugged. “Maybe not, but it didn’t feel right to leave you behind.”

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Little Reminders

Character: Sam Winchester

Request: *whispers* could you please maybe do a Sam or Cas version using the heart beat prompt? AKA (Imagine Sam curling up with you and listening to your heartbeat to reassure himself that you’re still alive)

Word Count: 1757

Warnings:Mild swearing

AN- Sam’s version has finally arrived! I really liked how this one turned out and I hope you guys do too! I plan on getting down a Cas version up soon.

Italics are flashbacks!

Dean Version: xxxxx

Cas Version: xxxxx

Feedback and Requests are much appreciated <3 I think my writers block is finally gone! :)

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a two thousand word office antics outline

There were about 10 episodes left. And this is how it was supposed to go down.

The numbering is based on the LJ chapters. For the AFF chapter, please add 8 to the number to get the equivalent numbering. 

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Baby It's Christmas

Anonymous said: Could you do a Christmas imagine that’s deanxreader based off the song baby it’s Christmas? The cover is by Travis-strep graham and Colton Haynes:) thanks!

A/N: Wow, I did not plan for this to be as long as it turned out. Anyhow, I hope you like it!

Word count: 2,280

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a car accident, sexual innuendo.

———————-

“So…you’re not gonna make it then?”

“Afraid not, baby,” Dean sighed, his voice holding the weight of a ton of bricks. He ran a hand through his hair, the short, sleek strands being ruffled easily. “I really wish I could, but this storm’s bitchin’ too hard; we’ll try to head out in the morning, but the roads might still be closed.”

Two days. The roads had been closed for two days, and now it was Christmas Eve, and Dean was stuck in a motel room just a couple of hours away from home. Sure, he had his brother with him, but Sam was also itching to just go and spend the holiday like a real family instead of being cooped up.

“Don’t worry, I get it,” you tried to say firmly, but your voice shook at the end.

Dean sighed once again, closing his eyes tightly and wishing that he could be with you for at least just a second; that he could hold you and wipe away the tears, of frustration and sadness, that were undoubtedly forming in your eyes. Frustration because you there wasn’t anything you could do, and sadness because, as Dean knew, you had promised your daughters that their father would be home for Christmas.

“Baby, I—”

“Dean, seriously, it’s fine,” you interrupted with what sounded like a forced smile. “I get what having this life —what settling down and still hunting— meant. Just come home safe. Please.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” There was a small silence, not awkward at the least, but just filled with the breaths that you each took, making it obvious that you were alive and well. “Did you tuck the girls in already?”

“Yeah, Katie helped me make dinner tonight while Emily ran around the house yelling that her sister was going to poison the food,” you laughed, the image of the chaotic kitchen causing Dean to chuckle as well. “They were completely exhausted by eight, although Emily did try to protest to their bed time between yawns. Even though she’s three, that child can be really stubborn sometimes.”

“Like mother like daughter,” Dean teased, almost hearing the roll of your eyes. He chuckled again, making sure not to wake Sam up, who was already lying down and sleeping on the opposite bed of the motel room. There was a small intake of breath from the other side of the phone, the corners of the Dean’s mouth turning up a little bit. “You’re tired, too, baby girl.”

“Nah, I’m completely up and at it,” you said, but another, less hidden yawn left your mouth right after you finished your sentence.

“Go to sleep, (Y/N), I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dean promised, and although he couldn’t see your smile, he knew it was there.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Dean heard the sheets of the bed being ruffled as you settled in, confirming your statement. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied softly, hand dropping down and away from his ear as he hung up.

He closed his phone app, the background screen popping out instantly, only blocked by a few things; it was a picture of you and Dean in the hospital with Emily, taken a few hours after she was born. Katie, who was three at the time, was smiling widely at the camera, laughing at the height Sam was holding her at. Dean was sitting next to you, one arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him while he smiled.

But the one thing that always caught his attention, no matter how many times he looked at the photo, was you. There were bags under your eyes, hairs sticking out everywhere, but to Dean, you looked like the most beautiful person in the world. You didn’t even see that the nurse was taking a picture, so you were looking down at the white bundle of blankets in your arms, love and adoration plastered in your features.

With one last look at the image, Dean set down his phone and took off his shoes, his arms folded underneath his head as he faced the ceiling of the room. He’d almost missed last Christmas, but Garth had begged for his and Sam’s help for the case he’d just finished, making him most likely lose the holiday this year.

He took a few moments readjusting his pillow, finally closing his eyes and turning on his side. He could hear the ticking of the motel clock, mocking him, taunting the fact that he didn’t have much time to get to you and his girls.

My baby I’m coming home
This Christmas


———

Dean woke up at five the next morning, blurry eyed and fighting against the urge to go back to sleep again. He rubbed his eyes, stumbling out of bed and quickly checking his phone. A small grin spread over his face, feeling his sleep fade away.

“Sammy, wake up, man, roads are opened,” he said loudly, throwing his pillow at Sam as he walked into the bathroom, changing in no time and already putting his things in his duffel bag by the time Sam did the same.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Sam grumbled, still half-asleep and tying his shoes while Dean waited by the door, impatiently tapping his foot.

“Cheer up, Sam, (Y/N) said she was going to make a salad for you,” Dean grinned, patting his brother’s shoulder as they left the motel room, stopping for a brief moment to check out at the front desk.

Classic rock pouring out of the speakers, Dean backed out of the motel’s parking lot and into the road. He was careful to avoid any ice, but drove as fast as he could nonetheless. He knew he would not forgive himself if his daughters, and you, were to have their first Christmas without him.

His knuckles kept turning white as he gripped the steering wheel when someone in front of him wasn’t going fast enough. The hours went by slowly and silently, snowflakes hitting the windowpane every now and then. It was past midday, and four more hours before he got home, when he had to stop completely.

“Son of a bitch!” he cried out, hands pounding against the steering wheel. Red and blue lights reflected against the white snow that covered the sides of the road. Three cars were in the middle of the road, each with various degrees of damage, but impossible to drive around.

A police officer with a black coat approached the Impala. Dean let down the window, feeling his mood deflating by the second. A cold rush of wind clawed at Dean’s cheek, reddening them almost immediately. For a second, he forgot all about his current position, stuck in the middle of a road for what would surely be a long time, his mind traveling instead to you, wishing to be with you more than anything in the world.

“What’s the situation, officer?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration tearing at the back of his mind in bay.

“Well, firs’ car swirled on the road an’ another crashed against it. Third one ran in to mess, the poor souls,” the officer replied, her voice thick with a southern accent. “Sorry, fellas, but with the ice like it is, you’re gonna have to wait at least three more hours.”

“Thank you, officer,” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the officer nodded and walked away. He rolled the window up, small, dim clouds of moisture forming as he exhaled slowly. “Great. Fucking great.”

“We’re going to be there in time, Dean,” Sam assured him, but the words barely stayed on Dean’s mind for a few seconds.

“In time, Sam? We’re seven hours away, at least, man,” Dean groaned, though his sentence was almost drowned by the loud ring tone that came from his pocket. He pulled the device roughly, though his eyes softened as read your name on the screen. “Hey, baby. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, handsome. How’s everything going?” There were a couple of small squeals from your end of the phone, and feeble patter of feet against the ground.

“Daddy!” two high-pitched voices yelled into the phone, cheerful and full of innocence. Dean cringed a bit away from the loud noise, but smiled, nevertheless.

“Daddy, when are you coming home? We got the best presents from Santa!” Katie shouted with excitement. “Mama even baked a pie for you!”

“She did? Well, sweetie, you make sure your sister leaves a piece for me, okay? I’m gonna be home real soon, and I wouldn’t miss your mama’s pie for the world,” Dean grinned, his previous frustration slowly fading away.

“Okay, Daddy! Is Uncle Sammy with you?”

“Yeah, sweetie, he’s here,” Dean said, glancing at Sam, who also looked better now that he was hearing his nieces’ voices.

“Well, Mama also said that you should wish him a merry Christmas without being an old Scrooge,” Katie said happily. Dean could hear your laugh in the background accompanied by a protest as you took the phone back.

“My, my, (Y/N), what have you been teaching my daughters?” Dean asked teasingly, making you laugh again. “Such corrupt language deserves some punishment,” he added, his voice lower.

“Oh, God, please don’t do that here,” Sam groaned, pretending to gag as Dean playfully hit his shoulder.

“Mr. Winchester, if you’re insinuating what I think you are, then at least be here first,” you teased back, “are you close?”

“Wish I could say that, honey, but there was an accident, so we’re going to take a bit longer than planned,” Dean sighed, absentmindedly watching a couple of snowflakes landing on the windshield. “Sorry, babe.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m just happy that you and Sam are coming home, so get here safely,” you said softly, your tone expressing sincerity. “Merry Christmas, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”

———

The sky was dark, and although it glimmered with many stars and the smile of the moon, it made it impossible for anyone to really see what was just a few inches away from their faces. However, a bright, orange light spilled into the front yard of yours and Dean’s house, the glow seeping through the window of the living room.

Dean parked out side the house, him and Sam watching the movie-like scene that was taking place inside; you had Emily in your arms, hoisting her up every few seconds to make her laugh and clap. Katie, who as Dean often liked to say was like a carbon-copy of you, was showing you a few papers, probably drawings she had made. You smiled and encouraged her to keep showing you the pictures, Dean’s red flannel letting you comfortably shift Emily around as you also paid attention to Katie.

“Merry Christmas, Sam,” Dean said with a small smile, too mesmerized to look away from you, but truthfully saying the words now.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Sam replied, turning to his brother with a smile. He then looked at the warm moment happening inside the house for a few more seconds before getting out of the car, Dean copying in his actions.

Snow covered the grass, sinking and browning with Dean’s and Sam’s footprints. Sam’s hand trembled a bit from the cold as he raised his fist, ready to knock on the front door, when Dean stopped him.

“Wait a sec’, I want to surprise them,” he explained, taking out the set of keys that belonged to the house. He fumbled with the small, metal objects until he found the one he was looking for. He inserted the key in the lock and turned it around, slowly and quietly opening the door.

“—and this is a cat, Mommy, ‘cause it has triangle ears,” Katie was saying, her eyes bright as she spoke about the doodles on the white sheet of paper she was holding. “And it’s also wearing a hat like Santa!”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie!” you grinned, smiling at Emily, who clapped and cheered with her small hands while she repeatedly said, “cat!”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect my little girl to be such a good artist,” Dean announced, three heads turning his way in surprise.

You froze in your seat for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. Dean’s lips curved up, his bright, emerald eyes meeting yours and watching your reaction. Then Katie ran up to him, her little sister following behind as she scrambled out of your arms.

“Daddy!” they both yell, giggling and shouting as Dean picked them up and hugged them, planting kisses on both of their foreheads. You stood up a few seconds after, the surprise wearing off and being quickly replaced by joy. Dean put Emily and Katie down, letting them greet their uncle, who wasted no time in spoiling them with his attention.

“Hi,” you breathed, coming to stand a few inches away from Dean. Even though you’d been married for more than seven years, there were times when you still couldn’t believe your luck of ending up with Dean.

“Hi,” he echoed, grin stretching from ear to ear. He was so close to you, that you could see the tiniest glimmer of red on his nose, the cold weather taking blame for it. But before you could look back up at his eyes, Dean gathered you in his arms, cold lips pressing softly against your warm ones.

“Ew, cooties!” Emily shouted, making you and Dean part away from each other as you both laughed, although Dean still held you tight.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Dean said, lips brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

22 People Share The Creepy Stories That Will Make You Think Twice About Going Out At Night

1. Trapped beneath the windows

My house sits farther back in the lot than most other houses. It is a strange lay out as well, the sidewalk runs the length of the living room and ends at the front porch, which lets into the living room. Large windows that do not open allow great light to get into the living room, but at the cost of no privacy. The rest of my family was on vacation, and having the house to myself, I decided I would get smashed. Well, I pass out on the couch in the living room at about nine, when I realized I was too scared to walk back to my room. The couch is right underneath these big windows.

I woke up suddenly, not knowing why. I had a severe case of the chills, and I could not figure out why. Then the banging started.

It came from right above me. I did not move, but I opened my eyes and looked up at the window. Someone was standing there, pounding on the glass. Without moving, I looked at the cable box. It was around three in the morning. The banging continues. Then it stopped suddenly, but I still did not move. Suddenly it commences again, coming from two different directions now.

Someone is banging on the window, and another person is banging on the front door.

They kept doing it, would not go away. Finally after about forty minutes they quit. It was the most terrifying event I can recall at the moment. It made me a nervous wreck after that. I called a friend the next day to see if he would come over and stay for the rest of the week, and his response was “What the fuck for? So that we can both be murdered in our sleep?” Thanks a lot, asshole.

2. Never sleep on a deserted road

About two years ago, I was driving home from a family reunion pretty late at night, and the drive was about two hours. I didn’t stay the night because I had to be back for work the following day. Most of the drive was on roads with dense bushes and trees on either side – the real creepy ones you see a lot in movies. Anyway, I had been driving about 45 minutes, and I was starting to get really tired. You know how sometimes you just suddenly become really tired, out of nowhere? Well yeah, that happened to me. I knew I wasn’t going to last, but I didn’t come across any place that I felt I could park and safely sleep.

Anyway, after it became clear to me that I wasn’t going to find a place to pull up, and my tiredness wasn’t going away, I did something very questionable. I pulled over to the side of the road onto the grass, behind some bushes, to try and hide my car from anybody else who was going to come past (the roads weren’t empty, I came across another car every few minutes or so). I made a mental note that the time was 11:22, and then fell asleep.

Some time later I was awoken by a scratching sound. I looked at the clock – 11:50. The sound stopped after a few seconds, and because I was still extremely tired, I didn’t bother looking around and simply went back to sleep. I was later awoken by the same sound, and it was now 12:40. This time it really freaked me out because the sound didn’t stop. The thought ran across my mind that it was just an animal inspecting the car, but why would it return almost an hour after it had left the previous time? I looked in my rear view mirror and just managed to catch a glimpse of something running away into the forest. Now, at the time, I thought it was the damn hook killer, you know the one that scratched that couple’s car and then slaughtered the guy when he got out to investigate? Fuck that, I thought to myself, so I got the hell out of there. There was a bend no more than a hundred yards up the road, and as I came around it, there was a fucking car, parked off to the side of the road with the driver side door opened. I slowed down just to look to see if anyone was in there (there wasn’t). Then I looked in my rear view mirror. I didn’t see anything, and all of a sudden, this guy comes sprinting around the corner. He starts screaming at me, shouting stuff like “Hey! Hey you! Get the fuck out of your car! Now!” I noped the fuck out of there and sped off. I never saw the guy again.

3. Maybe he left?

I was sleeping, and in the middle of the dream a character of my dream who was doing something turned her head, looked at me very seriously and said “There’s someone in your apartment, wake up.”

I nearly had a god damned heart attack, and my apartment was empty.

4. Shhhhhh

I had awesome parents who let me sleep in the living room on weekend nights when I was very young because my sister was a light sleeper and I could stay up until dawn. But of course I always end up sleeping on the couch because Nick At Nite made me tried.

So, one night I wake up to the prickly feeling. Like an instinct. Just bolted into a sitting position and stared out the front window. We lived in rural Georgia, so you can imagine the magnitude of trees. In perfect light cast from the moon, I see a silhouette of someone in this fucking tree. The family dog dashes to the window and is snarling into the glass.

Terrified, I run into my parents room and try to explain to my parents that there is a strange person outside. Dad grabs something defensive and darts outside with the dogs to beat the wax off the hot head. I tremble in Mama’s arms until Dad comes home and says he saw no one and to go to bed.

I decide to sleep in my regular bedroom. I fill in my sister in as to what happened. Dad is making regular rounds in the house with a cup of coffee. We’re all still and I finally think “I can sleep.”

Nope. I notice the man outside my window. From what I can see in the moonlight, he gives me a shush signal and runs away. Just turns around to run a straight line away. I swear I couldn’t stop crying for what felt like hours.

5. Home alone

when i was about 10/11 i was ill and did not go to school one day, my parents both worked and couldnt get the day off so told me just to stay in the house and dont answer the door to anyone, and the usual stranger talks etc.

i was sitting watching tv in the front room that has a big bay window that looks out onto the street, which is a main road with a row of shops across the road. i felt awkward with all the people walking past so decided to shut the curtains slightly and for some reason as i did i noticed this man in his late 40s/ early 50s with a beard and glasses wearing a green knitted jumper( he looked like your stereotype child abductor) something about him walking past just seemed strange, but not enough to play on my mind until he walked past again 10 mins later in the same direction, as if he had just looped round the block.

10 minutes later he appeared again and stopped at the edge of the driveway for about 30 seconds looking at the window, he then proceeded to the door looking in the window as he walked by, it was an old victorian sandstone house with big storm doors on the front that you needed a key to open, so he couldnt get in he knocked the door a few times but something just told me not to answer, he then came to the window banging it and saying something but i couldnt make it out, i then noticed the realisation in his face that there was a back door, my parents never locked the back door so the dog could come in and out as he pleased, i ran through to the kitchen and within seconds of turning the key and locking it the handle started turning and he started banging the door i just curled up in a ball on the floor in fear, he started trying to open windows and eventually left about 30 mins later.

i dread to think what could have happened if i had not remembered the back door was unlocked

6. They decided not to come in

I was in high school, doing homework at the dining room table. From there, I could see the front door. Our front door at the time had a 2′x5′-ish pane of glass in it, with a lace “curtain” over it. I remember hearing a noise, like somebody was on the porch. It was probably 9pm or so, it was very dark outside and the porchlight wasn’t on. As I’m watching the front door, I can SEE the screen door opening. It stands open for a minute or so, and there’s nobody there – or they were dressed all in black. I’m frozen, waiting to see what happens next. The screen door just slowly closes. If someone was there, they didn’t just let it go, someone was closing it carefully so that it woudn’t make noise. After that, I don’t remember if I heard footsteps… maybe they saw me watching them and decided to quietly get out of there.

7. Killer ghost

I woke up with blood gushing down my cheek when I was younger and I didn’t feel anything but my face felt wet so I went down to my parents room and they freaked out. Til’ this day we still have not clue what cut my face but I needed 8 stitches next to my eye. We checked the sheets, pillow, pillowcases, edges of the bed, etc. Still no idea.

8. Friendly neighbor

I have a friend who lives in a super sketchy neighborhood, and he was riding his bike at night back to his house. On the other side of the street was a strange man, and the man turned around and started charging towards my friend with a knife in his hand, screaming, “I’ma fucking kill you!”

9. A night walk discovery

A few years ago I was walking through the woods off the beaten track a bit and I smelt this really overpowering sweet smell. Being nosey I pulled back the undergrowth to have a look and found a dead body.

The guy had clearly been there a while and wasnt looking great, all swollen and green and black with various runny bits. The local wildlife had also been dining well for a few days.

I called the police who told me to wait with the body until they arrived. Being in the middle of no-where it took a while for them to arrive and it got dark and I was just sat there in the dark with him for a long time.

It turned out he had committed suicide. For a long time afterwards I had dreams about him and he would talk to me and not nice things. Mainly about how he was angry I had disturbed his resting place and he wanted me to kill myself. Probably just my imagination but all pretty disturbing at the time. He still turns up in my dreams from time to time and no doubt will be tonight after typing this..

10. He knew where I lived?

A few summers ago I went for a bike ride around midnight with a friend. We went our separate ways at the end of the evening and I had about two blocks to ride back by myself.

Because of construction I had to ride on the sidewalk but the streets were dead but it wasn’t a problem until right where I was about to turn left onto my street. There was this man walking by himself, maybe 40s, a little scruffy but not homeless.

The side walk was narrow and I didn’t want to freak him out so when I got about six feet behind him I said “hey behind you!” And he turned around and gave me this super angry look.

I turned down me street and he started to follow me, literally screaming about how I was a fucking cunt and he was going to kill me and all that. I live right off the corner and I didn’t want him to figure that out so I decided to do another loop around the block. That’s not the scary part.

The scary part is that when I looped back around and looked down the street I saw him standing on my fucking front stoop staring out at the street like the motherfucker KNEW I lived there. He saw me ride by again but he didn’t say anything.

I ended up going back to the friends, but my bike got stolen from the alleyway by the house two days later.

11. It was there

I was asleep in the living room and was suddenly awake, like wide awake. I hear my cat growling and looking over across the room and I look over to and see a big silhouette faintly human shaped. I couldn’t see any eyes or anything but I knew it was looking at me. I slowly sat up and leaned in closer to look at it and if didn’t move. I probably sat there for 10 minutes locked in contact with it before a sudden feeling of peace washed over me and I laid down and comfortably went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and saw nothing there that could make that shape, it is safe to say I don’t sleep in the living room anymore.

12. The camera man

My brother & I were both under 7 years old, he maybe 4 and I 6. We were playing outside in the snow when a strange white car pulled into our long driveway. This was uncommon since our driveway was hidden. The window rolls down & a man with short hair and goatee pulls up a camera and takes our picture. Then he rolls up the window and drives away. Never had any closure or follow up on that situation but it freaked my mom out so bad!

13. The whole house shook

When I was about ten all of my cousins and siblings were over (about ten of us there), the parents and grandparents were out for an adult dinner. So it was just the kids sitting around watching a few movies when all of a sudden the house shook and there was a large flash coming from the back yard. It felt as if a bomb dropped, we all heard, felt, and saw it, and as a pack we ran into the hallway. The eldest cousins in the group debated on calling the police but opted to call the parents. After a few minutes we gained our courage and ventured out into the living room again, this time with weapons (just in case). After a half hour with no other issues, the parents came home and thought we were insane. There was nothing wrong with the backyard and no neighbors reported anything. It’s been ten years, and we still talk about it, trying to figure out what it was.

14. That wasn’t mom

When I was 13, my mom used to drop me home from school and then pick my brother up. One day, I was dropped home and went on the computer like always. Minutes later, I heard the sink in our kitchen turn on and off and the microwave door open and shut. I assumed that my mom still hadn’t left and didn’t think anything of it. Another couple minutes go by and I hear my mom and brother come in. I greet them saying “Wow, that was fast! You just left!”. My mom was confused and said that she left awhile ago. I’m still not sure what happened. I think the scariest part was not expecting that something weird was happening.

15. Ape-like creature on the elevator

Posted this before but here it is again: I used to live in China back before I moved to the U.S. I was 12 when this happened in China. My friend used to live in those apartments that look like high-rise but are a little bit smaller. Anyways, in order for us to go to his apartment, we had to either take the stairs and walk up 10 stories or take the elevator. One day, I had a sleep over at his place and we went to get the new Pokemon movie (the one with latias and latios) at like 6 in the evening. The store was like 2 blocks away. He always talked about how creepy the apartments he lived at are because very few people lived there. I swear, I’ve only seen like 3 other people in those apartments and I was there all the time. Anyways, on the way back, it started to rain pretty heavily. We ran to his apartment and took the elevator. The elevator creaked and moaned on the way up and suddenly stopped. The lights in the elevator went out and it was pitch black and silent. Only thing we could hear was the muffled sound of rain and thunder. We being kids, started to panic, scream and cry. We were there for about 2 minutes when we heard a loud thud on top the elevator. Then we heard light footsteps walking above the elevator. We got quiet and looked up at the vent facing upwards in the elevator. The vent had holes in it so you could see out of the top of the elevator towards the long tunnel up the building. Our eyes had gotten used to the dark so we could make out a few objects. The footsteps stopped and it was dead quiet again. My friend nudged me and pointed up towards the vent. What I saw was probably the scariest thing i’ve ever seen and I am 20. I have never been this scared in my life. I looked up and could make out a face looking down through the vents. It looked like an ape. Like a really human like ape with human facial features if that makes sense. It was staring straight down at us. I don’t know if it was our imagination distorting a face of a monkey or an actual demon looking thing but it literally made me freeze in fear. I’ll try to draw a picture and post it. But anyways, we started screaming. I will admit. I pissed myself. It still gives me chills thinking about it. It started banging on the elevator roof. It din’t scream or anything, just made noises by banging the roof. It then took off and we could hear the footsteps running to the side of the elevator roof. Then the power came back on and the elevator started moving again. We never took that elevator ever again. It seriously traumatized us.

16. Bombings

My grandmother swore by this story till her dying day. It was during the war in London, and my dad was a baby. She was bombed out of her house and was staying with a friend. The friend had set her up in a room on the top floor. Anyway, she was taking my dad upstairs to bed when a figure materialised on the stairs telling her not to sleep in that room tonight. She noped back down stairs and told her friend that she, and my dad, were sleeping in the sitting room that night. Her friend was annoyed but agreed. That night a bomb exploded near the house and the roof caved in, right on top of my dads cot – he would have been killed.

17. There’s also candy

When my sisters and I were little, my dad bought us a puppy. Well, this puppy was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment kind of purchase, so we had to swing by Walmart to get a leash, puppy chow, and some chew toys. Our dad had us wait in front of the Walmart on a bench with the puppy while he went in to get the supplies. This nice skinny tall man with a red beard walked by, saw us, and sat next to us on the bench. He was paying lots of attention to my oldest sister, who would have been around 7 or 8 at the time. He started talking to us. Asked us if the puppy was for sale (he wasn’t). Started asking us how old we were. Kind of started out innocent. Then he turned to my oldest sister and said, “Hey, I have some extra dog toys out in my car if you want some!” He was trying really hard to get my sister to go with him to his car to get these dog toys. She stammered, “Our dad told us to wait here for him.” He kept insisting, and we were getting kind of nervous. Our dad walked out of the Walmart doors and gave this man the ultimate evil eye. The man fled, and when our dad got to us, he started berating us for talking to a stranger.

18. No one survives that house

My grandfather’s company (does timber, mining) was setting up an office in a relatively remote part of a 3rd world county and found a house that was dirt cheap, even for 3rd world country standards. Obviously, there was a catch. The villagers in that area told him not to purchase it since the house was haunted and everyone who had ever lived there died violently. He decided it was just some superstitious bs and got it anyway.

So the guy setting up the office will live on the top floor of the house with this family and the lower floor’s for the office. He moved in with his wife and 3 kids. Anyway, my grandfather suddenly got no news from him for the longest time. Since this was in a remote part of a 3rd world country, he wasn’t too worried since he just assumed they lost power or something. He finally contacted the local police to go check on the guy since he was completely unreachable.

They found everyone dead. Apparently the guy killed his wife, kids and then himself with a machete. Yes, not a gun. A fucking machete. He actually hacked himself to death. It wasn’t one of those cuts on the wrists to let everyone slowly bleed to death. Everyone was hacked down, including the guy himself.

The description of the scene had to be an exaggeration since I’m assuming the sight of 5 decapitated bodies, including 3 kids, were scary enough to make people see things, so I won’t bother putting it here since I’m not sure what’s true and there were details that people could not have witnessed. Let’s just say I stopped paying attention after I heard the phrase “magic machete”.

I was told entire room was covered in blood, including the ceiling. Some people were saying the blood on the ceiling had to have gotten there because the spirits “threw the bodies around”, I had to explain about blood pressure and got tons of weird looks.

Now, the weird part, if this isn’t weird enough, was that he managed to barricade the door with the bed, with his wife and kids on it. And it’s one of those gigantic old beds that’s extremely hard to move. The locals say this is evidence he was possesed by spirits. I say moving to the middle of nowhere in some 3rd world country drove the guy nuts and crazy people can do all sorts of crazy shit and even perform crazy feats of strength.

Anyway, my grandfather had to paid a few bribes to make sure nothing gets to the press (not hard, middle of nowhere) about the entire thing and get the police to classify the deaths as “natural” (no idea how they’ll explain that, 3rd world countries are awesome). All employees in the know had to sign an NDA too.

He then tried getting other volunteers to set up the office. Even if they haven’t heard all the gory details because of my grandfather’s gag order, everyone knew the previous guy died. No one volunteered. He “promoted” one guy, gave him a fancy title and told him he’s in charge of setting up that office. The guy quit.

19. The time a killer told me about killing

I once sat across from a guy who told me about killing his girlfriend, him cutting her into pieces and boiling her head.

He explained why he killed her and wished he could talk to the parents so they could understand that what he did was a good thing (it wasn’t)

I sat with him for 45 minutes as he went into detail, was the most surreal 45 min of my life.

20. Footprints everywhere

When I was about 13 or 14 I lived on a farm in NC. This wasn’t a regular farm that you would expect with fields full of beans and shit, it was actually a pine tree harvestry. Pine needles are a big landscaping commodity and so we lived basically in the woods and would bail the pinestraw every year. Whatever, the point is that my house was in the middle of 550 acres of perfectly lined longleaf pines.

My living room had a huge picture window. I won’t go into the architecture of the house, but it was a weird custom job built by some dentist in the 30′s. The window in the living room stretched nearly the entire length of the room, maybe 50 feet. The house was built on a subtle hill, so the living room itself sat 5 or 6 feet off the ground, so you had something of an angle to look out at a solid mile of pine trees. During the winter it was unsettling because you’d get just a bit of snow, enough to reflect moonlight so that you could see the dogs running around at night. I’ll be honest, i hated that room and that window.

So now to the relevant part. I had a cousin over for the weekend and we were doing what kids do in the country: throwing stuff in the fireplace to see what happens. It is getting late and the fire is dying down, so we build the big kingdom of couch cushions and blankets in the living room and get ready for bed. Nothing out of the ordinary until we hear the dogs barking. They were really far away. The property stretches for nearly a mile, so I just assumed they were chasing off whatever animal felt like shitting in my yard.

So my cousin is staring out the window and not saying anything, which prompts the standard “what’s up?” He just kind of keeps staring and says he feels like he’s seeing things. Naturally I get all anxious and start staring out the window as well. Nothing happens for a few minutes and he gets more and more annoyed with me because i’m asking what he saw, he keeps shushing me so that he can focus. And then we both see it. A shadow of a person moves from one tree to the next. not a run, not a leap, just a brisk walk from one tree to another. This is probably 100 yards out from the house. We can’t actually tell if the person is coming closer or not because we’re dealing with moonlight reflecting off of snow/slush/ice.

I guess the crazy part is that we didn’t so much freak out…because at this point there is still that chance that we didn’t see what we saw, you know? So we just kept staring. We should have gone to wake up my dad, but he’s an idiot and the kind of guy to walk out on the patio and holler into the woods with his rifle. We were just scared enough to agree that we don’t want to taunt whatever is happening.

So about 3 minutes later, it happens again, but a good 50 feet from where we first saw it. Another person, another tree, a few strides and they were gone. This happened every few minutes for the next half hour, and we just stared.

At this point I should mention that I didn’t really have neighbors. The land surrounding our farm was Federal Paper (i don’t know who owns it now) so it was miles and miles of uncultivated trees. You don’t see people around the farm unless they intend to be there.

So we keep watching as these two figures intermittently appear and vanish until finally we see one appear…but not disappear. Instead we focus in on it and see that it is now running forward. We lose our shit and go wake my dad. By the time we get into the room with my half-awake father, there is no one to be seen. We sprint around locking doors and windows. Keep in mind that we’re out in the country with no one around…it rarely occurs to lock doors. Every door was worse than the last because you just know that as soon as you reach the door, someone is going to be trying to open it, although that never happened.

We locked everything up, walked around the house at least 50 times making sure no one got in without us knowing, and then convinced my dad to fall asleep in the living room with us while we stared out the window. I never understood why my dad wouldn’t call the police. He always had this ‘we take care of our own’ mentality and it simply wasn’t an option to call 911.

The next day we went out to look and, absolutely, there were footprints everywhere in the snow. We saw them between trees and then we finally saw where someone had been standing right in front of the window…but as I said, I wouldn’t have seen them because while i’m 7 feet up in the living room, they would have been right beneath me.

21. Voices

My high school English teacher’s son is, was a paranoid schizophrenic. Saturday night he told her he was hearing more voices than normal, threatening voices. She made an appointment with his psychiatrist for Monday afternoon. He informed her that the voices didn’t want an appointment. He lit himself on fire Sunday morning. He died in her arms while the paramedics were still en route.

22. Past life memory

When I was a young child I had the same dream every night for years about drowning when a huge wave swept over me and I sank to the bottom. Years later I had a temp job delivering mail one summer during college. I saw this old lady sitting on a front porch waiting for me. When I got up there she looked at me and said in a foreign accent “you drowned when Oceania sank beneath the waves.”

For sixpenceee creepypastaisrad fuckyeahspoopyshit mrcreepypastaposts and their followers

Love Is (Him)

Relationship: Derek Nurse/William Poindexter

Rating: Teen & Up

Words: 3.8k

Summary:  Nursey falls quiet again, nothing but the sound of asphalt beneath the tires and soft music filling the cab of his truck. When Dex glances over he’s just barely smiling, looking stupidly good with one of Dex’s hats pulled on backwards and aviator sunglasses shading his eyes. Dex abruptly realizes he wants to kiss him, wants to curl his hand around the back of his neck and tug him across the center console. Instead, he scowls and takes another sip of the ice coffee Nursey had insisted on stopping for, hoping the bitterness will quell these obnoxious feelings.
The traffic gets lighter and the buildings get smaller the farther south they get, until the highway is lined with trees and Dex is flying along at a good clip. He can almost taste the ocean, even though they’ve got a few miles yet. There’s excitement thrumming in his bones, and he wants it to stop. This feels like a Big Deal, like something could happen tonight. Something momentous.
This is the worst.

{also on AO3}

(a/n: I started writing this before I realized that Dex might be from Maine?? I’m still not super clear on it, but as a live long Rhode Islander, I wanted to write this ode to my little state. And Derek Nurse’s face. But you know. Also there’s a poem in here. It is not good. Poetry is not my thing, so please accept my apologies beforehand.)

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Maiden Name Blues (Sad)

THIS IS ALSO AN AU TO THE REST OF THE ONE SHOTS! AND ONLY EMILIA AND MASON ARE HARRY AND THE MISSUS’ CHILDREN IN THIS CASE. ELLA AND MICAH NEVER CAME ALONG!

Mrs. Styles had been your favourite name for the past 8 years. You knew getting married at 22 while Harry was still in the midst of his dream - millions of girls fawning over him, hundreds of shows to play that would mean being away from you - probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was what you both wanted. You never, ever thought divorce would come into the question.

Now at thirty years old, Harry had decided it just wasn’t working out for him, and with two kids - a four year old and a one year old - in the equation, it wasn’t at all what you wanted to do. Your parents were divorced, and so was Harry’s, so you knew exactly what they would feel and go through when you told them - Emilia more so, Mason probably wouldn’t understand until he got a little older. You were four when your parents divorced, so you knew exactly what Emilia would think when you told them Mummy was leaving and she would come and stay with you every second week. She would no doubt think that her Mummy didn’t love her, and she was leaving because of that, but that was far from the reason.

Harry had explained his reasons for the divorce when he told you about it 3 months ago listing that the love had just disintegrated over the years and that you weren’t willing to compromise apparently. He had filed for the divorce the day after, and you received the papers three days after that.

You had begged Harry to give you both another try, that it could work out if you tried, but he wasn’t willing to, so you signed the papers that made you out to be the bad guy due to his reasons, stating that you were ‘behaving unreasonably’, and agreed to the divorce, no matter how much it hurt.

Because there were kids involved, a court date was arranged, which was where you were now. With the kids in the daycare program the court offered, you walked into the courtroom, noticing Harry standing down front with his mother, sister, father and stepfather. You walked in and smiled softly at your friend, giving her a hug and thanking her for coming along to support you, before joining your lawyer and sitting beside him.

Ten minutes later, court had begun, and the judge was talking to Harry. “And have you thought about what you wanted for the kids?” He asked, and you had. You had spoke about week rotations between the two of you.

Harry nodded, and the words that came out of his mouth next were definitely not expected. “I want full custody.” You eyes widened as your head turned quickly to look at him. Your mouth fell open as he avoided eye contact with you.

“No, no! We agreed on week rotations between the two of us. You can’t take my kids away from me,” you said and the judge quietened you down.

“We’ll come to you in a second, Miss,” he smiled sadly as a few tears ran down your cheeks. He couldn’t take your babies, he just couldn’t. You loved them with every fibre of your being, they were your whole world. You housed them for nine months, you went through a 19 hour labour with Emilia and a 17 hour labour with Mason. “And Mr. Styles, what’s your reason for wanting full custody? Would you say she’s an unfit mother?” Harry looked over at you before looking back to the judge.

“I have the money to support my kids,” was all he said. ‘So do I’ was all that was running through your head. But what hurt most was that after spending eight years with him was that if you didn’t have the money to support your children, he was willing to take them from you.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and the floodgates opened. Harry looked over, guilt flooding his features, Anne holding her chest, crying looking at you. Gemma was giving Harry the eye, and Robin and Des kept their line of vision to the front of the room or at their feet. “We’ll take a break and come back in 15 minutes,” you jumped up from your chair and ran out of the room, your friend running out after you. You had kept your engagement and wedding ring on for the time being so no one assumed anything or started rumours that ultimately would be true, but you couldn’t get them off fast enough once you were in the bathroom, sitting on the small chair that was placed in the corner, looking at the two rings placed in between your fingertips.

“Honey?” Anne asked and you looked up.

“Hi, sorry I must look a mess,” you said, wiping your eyes furiously.

“Come on, Honey. I’ve been through this. I know how you feel right now. And I know Harry thinks he’s making the right decisions, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, but he’s just having a hard time remembering all of the good times. He’s a lot like his father than he likes to admit,” Anne smiled sadly.

“I love him so much, Anne. I don’t want him to take the kids. I love them so much. I don’t want to lose any of them,” you whimpered. Anne came over, crouching in front of you.

“I know you do, sweet pea. You won’t lose your kids, I promise. He regrets that he even thought about it. You know you’re always going to love him, you’ll always feel something special for him, he’s the father of your kids. I still love, Des. But I’m happy and very much in love with Robin. You’re going to be happy one day too, love. I promise you,” you smiled sadly at her. “Now, shall we get back in there? He’s not going to take Em and Mase from you. I promise,” she whispered, pulling you in for a hug.

*three months later*

A decree nisi had been issued 9 weeks ago, and now you were at the final stage of your divorce. A decree absolute had been applied for, and you were just waiting to hear back. So when you went to grab the mail, the first thing you should have been expecting was a decree absolute, but seeing a confidential envelope sitting there from the court was the last thing you expected, or maybe it was the last thing you wanted to see.

It was official. You were divorced. Harry was no longer your husband.

“Mumma! Mumma! Can we go to the park?” Emilia asked as she ran into the sitting room, Mason crawling behind him, still not completely used to walking yet.

“Of course, honey. Go get your shoes on and we’ll leave in a couple minutes. I’ll just get Mason into his stroller,” you smiled as she ran off to the door to slip on her shoes.

Your phone started to ring, and you looked at it seeing it was Harry. “Hi,” was all you could say.

“Hi, I was just wondering if you got the letter?” You looked up to the ceiling to keep your tears at bay.

“Yeah, I got it,” you said, noticing Mason getting a little too close to the fireplace. “Mason, bub, let’s not climb into the fire shall we,” you chuckled lifting him up. Smiling as he laughed loudly, infectiously.

“So I guess it’s official,” he mumbled on the other side of the line. “It doesn’t feel like it should,” he whispered.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” You asked and he sighed.

“I regret it. I love you,” he said. And that pulled you apart.

“You can’t go back. You could have changed your mind with I begged you to stay with me. When I begged you to give us another chance. We became this because of you Harry. I need to go, I’ll always love you. But I’m sorry, you started this process, and it’s a little too late to try and change it. See you on Sunday to drop the kids off. Bye, Harry,” you said before hanging up.

It was just a little too late. You were Miss. Y/N Y/Maiden/N. You were not longer Mrs. Y/N Styles, and that hurt, so, so much.

anonymous asked:

Can you post what restaurants you eat at please? Thanks!

Oh man. As you can probably tell, I’m one of those if-my-dog-can’t-go-I-don’t-really-want-to-go type people, so I’m assuming you’re asking about the restaurants I take Chubby to? My favorite haunts are:

BRUNCH

Bette’s Oceanview Diner - Berkeley, 4th Street - it’s an East Bay institution so I hear, as such staff is usually swamped on the weekends and don’t pay particular attention to the dogs

Cafe M - Berkeley, 4th Street - servers are friendlier and they’ll bring out a bowl of water for le Chobley

Zazie - SF, Cole Valley - it’s usually pretty crowded, but the wait for outdoor seating is first-come, first-serve! I arrived once at peak hour to an empty outdoor table and couldn’t believe my luck… they also bring out a bowl of water for your dog

Outerlands - SF, Outer Sunset - long wait (hmm sensing a pattern…), lots of outdoor seating with heat lamps for the pervasive cold/fog that hovers over Outer Sunset. People are really friendly and there are bound to be other doggies brunching with their humans

LUNCH

Gregoire - Berkeley, Gourmet Ghetto - limited outdoor seating, but they love the doggies! The cook will offer the pups fresh pieces of chicken if he isn’t too busy. Chubby often stops by on a walk and makes a beeline for the chicken even if we aren’t actually eating there that day

Cheese Board - Berkeley, Gourmet Ghetto - if it’s really crowded, you can order a pizza and walk over to Live Oak Park to picnic with your dog

Chop Bar - Oakland, Jack London Square - brunch/lunch spot. Greatest burgers in the world and doggies allowed in the patio seating area with their own bowl of H2O 

TrueBurger - Oakland, Lake Merritt - Chobley is obsessed with their burgers… there’s only one table in the outdoor nook, so if it’s packed get your burger to-go and walk your pooch over to Lake Merritt. The lake can be pretty meh depending on time of the year (geese crap and pungent algae), but the 12th Street Restoration is finally complete!! Now there’s a gorgeous new waterfront grass and seating area perfect for eating and frolicking for both man and dog

Jack London Square Farmer’s Market - Oakland - not a restaurant, but great foods to try out (we love Cholita Linda), lots of dogs and a beautiful oceanfront

Bi-Rite Market/Creamery - SF, Mission - also not a sit-down restaurant, but great for getting sandwiches and ice cream and heading over to Dolores Park to picnic with your doggie in the glorious sun

Hope this was informative! Most of these places are situated in very walkable/dog-friendly neighborhoods and commercial areas or near parks where dogs can play. 

I went to LA a couple months back and had a pretty terrible dining experience at an amazing restaurant. They were billed as dog-friendly, but the dogs were only allowed to be tied outside the patio seating area. Our group was placed in a corner far from where the dogs were situated and that distance made Chubby very, very anxious. I asked to be seated closer, but the staff didn’t want to put an extra chair out at a table meant for 4. We ended up taking Chubby back to the car where he could at least lay down and relax… but that meal was totally ruined for me. The food was superb, but all I remember is feeling very anxious/guilty. There’s nothing better than being able to go out and eat great food with your pup by your side, then go on walkies together afterward!

Chubby at the aforementioned restaurant in LA looking optimistic about his dining prospects… little heartbreaker.