i kind of fell back into some old habits i was trying to avoid before

Did this with number 1 from those post break up prompts I reblogged a few days back! 

Character A is on their way to sell the engagement ring they once bough for Character B (but the never got to propose) when they run into Character B again.

Wolfstar of course :)

Sirius wished the universe had at least had the decency to make it a cloudy, dreary, possibly miserable but that might be taking it a bit far, day. If this was what it had led him too, it was the least it could do, really.

He stared at the blue sky through the small front window of James and Lily’s flat, then back down at the small, velvet box in his hand. His thumb was poised to open it, nail in the soft crease between the top and bottom… and he couldn’t.  He couldn’t. If he saw it again he’d never get rid of it. And it was of no use to him. Not anymore. He’d spent enough hours staring at it, the gold rim, the small inside engraving. It had promised him everything and, now that everything had been lost, it was just a heart breaking reminder. It was worthless. He knew this. But he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see it sitting there, cold in the box still. It should be with him. A sudden image of Remus kissing him, palms to his cheeks, and feeling the cool pressure of the ring on his left flooded through his mind. He pushed it away with difficulty.

He shoved the box into his pocket, grabbing a jumper from the back of the couch and pulling it roughly over his head while calling to James.

“Going out!”

“Okay!” A beat, and then, “Actually, wait, wait!”

Sirius turned from the direction of the door as James appeared in the kitchen doorway, tea in hand. His other rubbed the back of his neck.

“Are you, um…” He coughed, eyes flicking down to Sirius’ hands, searching, “Are you going…”

“Yeah.” Sirius said too quickly. He cleared his throat, “Yeah, and?”

James shook his head a little, shrugging and bringing his tea to his lips, “Nothing. Nothing, alright. Right…”

He shuffled his feet a little and Sirius rolled his eyes, “I’m fine,” He definitely wasn’t fine, “I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

James didn’t look any more at ease but he nodded, “Yeah.”

The day felt just as nice as it looked and Sirius scowled at the sun, defiantly putting his hood up and his head down.

The feeling of the box knocking against his thigh with every step was excruciating, a constant reminder of what he was about to do.

It should be with him.

His feet felt heavier with every step, every bump, and he found himself staring at the lump in his pocket. He clenched his fists tighter and tighter at his sides until his nails felt like pin pricks and the box felt like a scorching iron across his skin.

“Fucking hell-“ He dug it out of his pocket roughly, just as he collided with something— someone. Sirius’ head knocked right into a rather bony shoulder making his swear again, only to have the word mix with another curse.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t see.. you.. oh.”

Sirius’ heart started thrumming painfully in his chest. Remus straightened up in front of him.

Sirius went straight back to cursing the universe. Not now. God, please not today.

Sirius just stood there, unable to open his mouth. Remus looked… thin. His hair fell in messy curls over his forehead, as apposed to the usual neat swoop to the side. Really, Sirius couldn’t stop looking at his eyes. They were rimmed with soft purple, and as golden as ever. He thought he might drop to his knees, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, under the weight of the sheer longing that was coating his heart.

Remus opened and closed his mouth a few times before, “It’s a bit hot for a hood.”

Sirius blinked because what? “Wh- What?”

Remus’ cheeks flushed, “I- I don’t know why I said that. But- I- don’t you think?”

Sirius stared a moment more, then slowly raised his hand, swiping his hood from his head, “Right. The sun was just feeling a bit too…” He shook his head, still caught too off guard by how—normal—this conversation sounded.

Remus just nodded distractedly, eyes suddenly not on Sirius’, but trained on Sirius’ hand that was still resting on Sirius’ shoulder from removing his hood. He looked uneasy, panicked even.

Sirius watched as he swallowed thickly, voice coming out horse, “Meeting someone?”

Sirius knit his brows, cocking his head slightly at the sudden question, and the look crossing Remus’ face. How could I be meeting someone when that look is out there somewhere needing someone to kiss it away?

“No. ‘m not, why?”

When Remus’ eyes didn’t move to his, Sirius followed his gaze. His stomach dropped at what he found on the other end. The small, velvet box was still grasped in his hand. In plain sight.

“I- Oh. Fuck, no-” He realized what this must look like to Remus and it only made his heart tighten further. The mere thought that Remus could have it in his head that Sirius would ever, ever be with anyone else right now drove a knife in and twisted it, “No, Re- Remus,” Sirius corrected himself quickly at the way Remus winced.

“It’s fine.” Remus mumbled, “I- I don’t know why I asked. I guess I just…” He trailed off, “Dunno.”

Sirius’ mind whirled, desperately trying to find some lie to tell. He definitely wasn’t about to give Remus the truth, not with the way he wouldn’t even look at him.

“I- This is- I mean, I bought this for— these.” He corrected himself as a thought formed in his head, “I’m going to sell. This is- these are… cuff links. For James’ birthday. He- He didn’t like them.”

Remus’s eyes, which had still been fixed on the box, found Sirius’, “Oh.”

Sirius, gripped the box tightly in his palms, thumb, out of habit, wedging the opening but unwilling to follow through, “Y-Yeah.”

Remus’s expression suddenly changed. His eyes shifted from glazed over, and seemed to fill with a flicker of… something.

“Sirius…” Remus took a step forward.

Sirius’ eyes nearly closed at the way Remus said his name. Like he used to.

“Yeah…” Sirius breathed.

Remus’ eyes flit over his face as he stares down at him, “James’ birthday is in March.”

“I..” Fuck. “Yeah. It is.”

“It’s July.”

Sirius closed his eyes, taking in the close proximity of Remus’ presence and being silently furious with himself at the same time, “Yeah.” He sighed, defeated, “It is.”

Remus’ voice came out soft, “Can I see?”

Sirius’ eyes flashed back to the pools of bronze, panicked, “They’re really not much. Pretty plain. I mean-“ You never saw it. You didn’t want it. “They aren’t- It doesn’t really matter. He didn’t want them.”

Remus cocked his head, “How do you know?”

“Because he kind left before I could give them to y- him.” Sirius sighed, feeling heat bubble in his chest. He wasn’t sure what emotion it was, there were too many flowing through him.

Remus’ brow furrowed, “Well if you had stopped him maybe you could have found out. Let me see.”

Sirius flushed. They definitely weren’t talking about James anymore. “How was I suppose to know he wanted to be stopped?”

“Of course I wanted to be stopped!”

The silence that followed left what little space there was between them now heavy with Remus’ words. They were both breathing hard. Remus’ hand had somehow made its way over Sirius’ on the box. Sirius was burning at the touch.

Remus closed his eyes, letting a breath out through his nose, “Of course I wanted to be stopped.” He repeated.

Sirius stared at him, the crease between his eyebrows, the frown on his mouth, the tightness of his jaw. He swallowed hard, voice coming out shaky, “You can’t expect me to know that, that’s- that isn’t fair. You were so.. You were so angry with me, I thought-”

Remus opened his eyes, fixing them on the ground. The sun cast eyelash shadows on his cheeks. He looked more tired and thin than he had when they started. He shook his head, “No, it isn’t fair.”

Sirius’ heart tugged when Remus let his hand slip away.

Remus still wouldn’t look at him, “‘m sorry, I… I don’t know.”

He turned, carefully avoiding brushing against Sirius again, and started to walk away. Sirius reeled at the loss of contact, the sudden empty space in front of him. He was thrown back in time, standing in their old flat. He was staring into Remus’ tear stricken face one moment and was hearing the door slam the next. There was a velvet box in his pocket and he was very, very alone.

Not again. He decided. Not again.


Sirius turned at the same time Remus did, eyes meeting. He was sure his looked wild. Remus’ looked just as untamed. He tried to slow his breathing, fingers tightening around the box.

He took a step forward.

“It isn’t cufflinks.”

Remus let out a breath, “No?”

“No.” He took another step, slowly closing the distance between them, “It’s-“ His eyes flitted over Remus’ face, hating ever worry marked there, every frown, each tired rim around his eyes, “God. It’s what I should have stopped you with.”

“You couldn’t have known-“

“I should have known.” He took the final step, thumb finally flicking the box open, “I should have let you know how much I…” He didn’t look down at the ring. Instead, he watched Remus’ eyes widen, he watched his lips part. He watched what he had wished he had watched for months. What he could watch for years. Remus’ eyes went back to his and they were glassy. He looked so tired. Sirius needed to fix it.

“Re..” Remus’ brows knit, eyes shutting at the nickname. He let out a soft noise when he felt Sirius’ hand on his cheek, holding him together.

“Re, I should’ve know. I- I know now, okay?” He ducked his head a little, desperately needed Remus to look at him, “Please, Re-“

But Remus was kissing him, hands on Sirius’ cheeks, a few tears on his own. And Sirius was melting, nearly dropping the box, the ring, as his arms made their way around Remus’ waist.

He closed the box as he kissed Remus. He had a lifetime to give him that ring. He needed this now, they needed this now. He slipped it into Remus’ back pocket, causing him to let out a watery laugh against his lips, and smiled as he wound his fingers in Remus’ hair, pulling their mouths back together.

And with Remus against him, laughing into his kiss, Sirius thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad the sun was out today after all.

Imagine Dean Finding Your Sketchbook...

Word Count: Around 2500

Warnings: None other than fluff :)

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This one really ran away from me, it was supposed to be kind of short…but enjoy! Maybe this will appease y’all while I work on the new part of Through the Flames

***This fic is pretty thrown together, I just wanted to give you guys something since it takes me such a long ass time to update

Summary: The reader has a sketchbook full of drawings of Dean. After a hunt, to the reader’s horror and embarrassment, she finds Dean with his nose in her sketchbook.

There was never much privacy in your life with the Winchesters. Every time you turned around one of them was always right there. On most days, that wasn’t a bad thing- especially on hunts. You knew they’d always have your back, that you were never alone. It was comforting really, comforting on those days that you needed someone when everything seemed to go wrong. Sam always had kind words of advice and assurance and Dean wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You couldn’t help but love the fact that they were always there.

You also couldn’t help but hate the fact that they were always there. You’d started to develop a kind of sixth sense whenever one of them was nearby, you could just feel them lurking. It was more of Dean than anything, Sam knew enough to let you be.

Dean loved to hover. You decided that this was because he was such a mother hen, but you eventually came to another conclusion. Dean Winchester was sometimes too curious for your liking. You figured that at some point he’d learn his lesson because, as you had pointed out to him more than once- curiosity killed the cat.

As annoying as it could be at times, he wasn’t hurting anyone when he would lean over your shoulder to see what you were watching on Sam’s laptop. The one time he had followed you to yoga class to see where you’d been disappearing to all week wasn’t even that big of a deal either. Despite the fact that he could have just asked you, you dropped it and let him go with nothing more than a whack with your yoga mat.

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a not at all complete list of Thing That Have Gone Wrong for aaron and robert when it comes to sex

blame @robertisbisexual & @lastgoldsun for half of this, honestly. anyways, the funny and awkward moments when it comes to sex are the best and are what we neglect as a fandom so i got u. 

  • robert is very defensive of his age, and he is not old, thank you very much. the back pain he had for two weeks after aaron suggested they try and new position was nothing to do with his age. absolutely nothing at all.
  • aaron starts a new habit of massaging robert’s back post sex, and its lead to robert making some very strange noises that make aaron laugh for days afterward (thank you @lastgoldsun!!)
  • aaron put a ban on shower sex for a month after robert slipped in the shower and nearly cracked his skull open on the glass door and had to go to a&e mid-morning (it was just a concussion.)
  • aaron got a little over enthusiastic running up the stairs one evening (post a few pints) and started unbuttoning his jeans before he even got to the top set, which resulted in him tripping over the denim and cutting his chin open on those stupid metal stairs robert had put in their house. 
  • robert was convinced he could hold aaron up so they could have sex against a wall once, but really overestimated his own strength and dropped aaron (who narrowly avoided splitting his head open on their chest of drawers.)
  • robert makes a really high pitched whining noise mid sex once, and aaron just loses it completely and it ruins the mood (thank u to @lastgoldsun for this one again!)
  • aaron decides to grow a proper beard, one winter, because he’s twenty six and those are the kind of things twenty six year olds think are good ideas, you know? robert doesn’t mind it too much at the start but realises very quickly that aaron has amped up the beard burn robert’s thighs have to suffer now by about 1000%, which leads to a very uncomfortable dinner at wishing well where robert is determined to not sit down, and aaron can’t stop laughing. every time aaron gets a compliment on the new longer beard that encourages him to keep it (lisa thinks the beard makes aaron look like a proper country lad, and aaron grins for about an hour) robert dies a little inside.
  • (the mountain man beard lasts another month before robert threatens to stop having sex with him.)
  • they decide to get a bit adventurous one evening (use ur imaginations) and it just…. doesn’t work on any level and they find the whole experience so absolutely hilarious they end up laughing for like a solid hour, and forget they were so turned on in the first place they barely made it up the stairs.
  • robert tells bad jokes in bed. this is just a fact. he likes seeing aaron laugh, and when robert tells a spectacularly bad joke, he does this cute thing where he scrunches his entire face up and just laughs with his whole body, and robert thinks its the greatest thing ever.
  • when aaron stops wearing hair gel, robert breathes a literal sigh of relief, because he’s spent two years ending up with sweat sticky hair gel all over his face and neck because of aaron’s obsession with having a gel helmet on at all times (thank u @lastgoldsun again!)
  • aaron fell out of bed once. they don’t really even remember how it happened, but it did and robert will never forget the shocked look on aaron’s face as he got up from their bedroom floor (it was hilarious)
  • robert won’t talk about the chocolate sauce incident anymore. but it did lead to them throwing out a very expensive set of john lewis bedsheets, and robert suspiciously wearing sunglasses for three days straight mid november.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam
Word Count: 3,881
Warnings: Language, mention of miscarriage (nothing in depth), violence, sass, blood, hurt Sam, hurt Dean
A/N: I wrote this for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s romcom fluff challenge! Congratulations on the followers, darling! I had prompt 71. “The girl I knew used to be fearless.” It is bolded below.

Beta’d by my beautiful waterbear @trexrambling: “Of course he is. Come on, Dean, get it together.”

And my precious panda @pinknerdpanda: “I love how sassy and like….badass your readers are.”

Thank you, lovelies. I’d be lost without you. <3

As usual, tags are at the bottom. If you’d liked to be added, please let me know!

Overview: The reader had left hunting years ago, and Dean comes back to try to convince her to come with them. When she refuses, Dean finds himself in a predicament. The reader has to make a decision.

Originally posted by celestialsonata7

“The girl I knew used to be fearless.”

I froze, my hands clenched tightly by my sides, and spun around to face Dean.

“Excuse me?”

Dean jammed his hands in his pockets nervously, as if he hadn’t expected me to turn around. “I’m just saying, the girl I knew when I was kid…she wouldn’t run away. The girl I knew grew up and became one of the best hunters I know.”

“The girl you knew has not existed for years. The girl you knew lost more than she could have ever dreamed of losing, because of this life. And now here you are, just expecting me to hop back into it, because you asked me to? Who do you think you are, Dean Winchester?” I spat as the anger bubbled just under the surface. Dean didn’t know what had happened to me because he hadn’t asked. He was working based off of assumptions he made about who I was ten years ago, not who I was now.

“Well, I’m freakin’ adorable, for starters-”

The dam holding back every single thought I’d kept inside for the past decade broke. I crossed the space between us and glared up at him. For a moment, I figured it must look comical, Dean being at least a foot taller than me, but I must have looked angry enough for that to not matter. “What you are is a self-centered, egotistical asshole that thinks he can get what he wants by flashing a smile and saying something endearingly stupid.”

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Brave (Movie! Jake Portman x reader)

Anonymous said: Could you write an imagine where I got in a fight with a wight but I don’t want anyone to know so I cover up the busies and scratches but one day Emma notices and she, Jake, and Enoch all try to get me to tell the what happened but I cry and it’s really emotional because I’m embarrassed that I couldn’t handle it. (This is SO long sorry!!!)

Here you go! I hope you like it! x

Originally posted by xsecretsfrostx

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The View From the Edge

Another delightful story for @caped-ace, this time for some Reaper76 from Overwatch! Enjoy these old men, proving that being edgelords doesn’t go out with age.

Cut is for length, not for content. 

Originally posted by etlabetes

It had taken nearly thirty minutes after the battle with Los Muertos for Soldier: 76 to finally collapse in the Dorado alleyway.

Clearly, he had known it was only a matter of time before he would succumb to the injuries he had sustained. That’s why he had concentrated on taking an aimless, twisting path through the Mexican city, avoiding major thoroughfares. Generally he kept moving south - which must have been where he had left whatever mode of transportation he had used to get there - but then, near an industrial scrapyard, his knees buckled. One arm against a building wall, the other clutching the heavy pulse rifle. Of course that would be important to him, but soon it fell with a clatter as he gripped his side, where he had taken the brunt of the grenade blast.

Idiot, Reaper thought. The child had foolishly put herself in danger, had lingered too long, and then the rogue had hesitated in deciding what to do about it, waiting for the last possible moment, losing the gang and just barely rescuing the girl. Sloppy. Careless.

After a moment, it had become too much, and Soldier: 76 sagged to the ground in an unconscious pile.

“Old habits die hard.”

And now that old habit was going to kill him. Ironic.

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Missing Parts - 26.

Part 27
Missing Parts Masterlist

Both of you woke up early in the next morning .The house was still silent and dark; the only light source was as the first rays of sunlight beamned through the deep green blinds. Harry’s eyes were closed, but he was awake too – he traced tiny circles on the small of your back with his thumb under your shirt. Reaching out and running your fingers through his dark hair a couple of times, he let out a soft laugh; the bright green eyes slowly opened up and looked into yours drowsily. Crawling toward, you snuggled up to him and nuzzled against his neck, smiling. A few minutes later you sat up, arched your back and stretched yourself before scrambled out from the bed. “Isn’t it too early?” – Harry’s raspy and sleepy voice sounded muffled from beneath the blanket.

“I’ve been awake for an hour.” – you shrugged. – “I slept too much yesterday.” – He buried his face in the pillow whilst you disappeared in the bathroom for a shower.

One would easily thought it’s exhausting, being always vivacious and cheerful – or at least pretending it in the attempt to make the others to feel themselves better – but it wasn’t. It was on your nature, and despite of all the bad things that happened so far, it never crossed in your mind that things could go wrong forever; it can always be better if you make it. You were sanguine, and this kind of demeanor was especially helpful around Harry.

The Christmas spirit made you even happier; though the Grimmauld Place looked gloomy and miserable, your mother brought all the ornaments from your house – a little decorations will help a lot.

Coming out from the shower and putting on your bra and kicnkers, you realized, with a smaller shock on your face that there wasn’t any clothes in there – you only brought in the underwears. For a minute you cursed under your breath, but after a huge sigh you entered into the room which now was bright as the curtains were pulled back. Harry was standing in front of a desk, fiddling with an old, broken sneakoscope, but as you stepped in, he snapped his head up; the dark detector fell out from his hand and shattered in even more pieces. His reaction made you laugh while continued your way to the old wardrobe; you took out your favourite pants and a red, knitted Christmas sweater from a shelf.

“It was already broken.” – he muttered nervously, trying to collect the bits.

“Okay.” – you said with a grin, once when the laugh sibsided. Getting dressed, you haven’t looked up, not even for a second, but you could feel Harry’s almost burning gaze on yourself all the time. Finishing and raising your head, he was still glaring at you, and as he spoke up, his voice was nearly weak.

“Sorry. I was just… you look so… fine.”

Widening your eyes, a short, sharp laugh left your lips before cleared your throat. “Fine? Really?

“No, you’re just so freaking beautiful I lost my ability to speak. Or exist.” – he rattled of, still standing frozen, his eyes gleamed.

The little smirk on you transformed into a smile, and walking closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly shaking your head. “You’re so adorable.” – you said with a small laugh before he kissed you gently.

“Feeling better?” – As the words escaped your mouth you immediately regretted it; his face became more serious and glanced down on his feet before your eyes met again; but he just nodded.

“Go and get dressed, okay? We’ll eat something and then you can help me to decorate this condemned cell.” – you said, trying to keep your playful tone, but again, he just nodded with a smile, which was clearly forced. Of course you didn’t think he’d get over it by the morning, but his behaviour in the past half an hour made you hope he’s getting better. After a quick kiss you left the room together; he went back to the room what he shared with Ron while you walked down to the basement. The adults were already there – Mrs. Weasley and your parents – but only they, the other kids were either still asleep or just started to waking up.

“I can’t believe it.” – your mother was gaping at you. – “Finally breaking your holiday habit and get up before noon? Is everything alright?”

After a little eyeroll you smiled and took a seat, pouring some coffee. – “I’m completely fine.”

She muttered something like “love does funny things”, but you didn’t really listened as Mrs. Weasley was looking at you with a worried face. “And Harry? He looked really bad yesterday.”

Taking another ship before you put the mug down, you started slowly. “He’s still a bit… distressed.” – that was an understatement, maybe they knew that too, but you wasn’t sure you should tell more, and thankfully, they stopped asking questions. -  “He just need some more time.”

Soon the others started to fill the kitchen too; even Harry came down, though he was mostly silent. You were chattering with the others, secretly hoping he’d join in or at least it’d help to distract his thoughts. With Ginny, you were laughing about something that George said about Umbridge, right before you turned your head to the empty seat next to you; Harry vanished. Maybe a little space will be good for him, you thought, deciding to leave him alone.

The rest of the morning passed with decorating – your father singing voice followed you through the whole place. You placed while and silves orbs, red bows, and green garlands everywhere; enchanted snow were falling from the drawing room’s ceiling, and the dead house elves all get Santa Claus hats. The huge Christmas tree was standing in the kitchen – since you all used this room a lot more than any other place in the house.

It was lunch time, but Harry didn’t come down. Walking upstairs, you searched for him in half of the rooms, finally finding him in the old room of Walburga, where Buckbeak was hiding. “Lunch is ready.” – you said, keeping the sufficient distance from the hippogriff.

“I’m not hungry.” – he murmured, avoiding the eyecontact.”

Exhaling deeply, you took a half step closer. “Harry, please. Everybody would like to see you. We’re worry about you.”

He stood up now, looking at you; there was anger in the depth of his eyes. “Oh, really? It’s not like everybody was so keen to talk to me. I think you are all are perfectly fine without me.”

“You’re the one who avoiding us!” – to your loud voice, Buckbeak stood up and take a step closer towards you, so you moved back, though Harry immediately stopped in front of the creature. – “Just leave me alone, will you?”

After a last, furious glance at Harry, you left the room and slammed the door so loudly it probably echoed in the whole house. Rushing down on the staircase you stayed in the drawing room – which was empty now, perfectly fine for you since you wasn’t in the mood to stay amongst people and accidentally shouting their head off just because Harry made you so furious. Even though it wasn’t the first time he behaved like this, with you it was, for weeks, and now you lost your patience somewhat; and you were angry at yourself too, because you knew you shouldn’t.

You only came out from the drawing room next time when the doorbell rang, and Walbuga’s portait started to shouting. While Mrs. Weasley and your mother tried to pull back the curtains, you opened the door, gaping at your friend who quickly walked in. “Hermione! What are you doing here?”

She closed the door and gave you a quick hug. “Well, skiing wasn’t really for me… but don’t tell Ronald!” – she added fastly. – “So I rather came here.”

“Alright, I won’t.” – you laughed. – “Of, if you go upstairs to Harry, could you please punch him or something?”

Hermione widened her eyes, so you explained everything, whilst Ginny and Ron also appeared in the hallway. “You three should talk to him.” you said after finished the monologue, causing Ron to raising his eyebrows.


“Because, Ron,” – you started, sighing. – “you’re his best friend. Hermione can actually make sense with her words. And Ginny was really possessed by Voldemort.”

“You’re right.” – Hermione answered instantly. – “Are you coming too?”

Waving your hand, you shrugged. “Nah, I’ve done my part.” – though you were still a bit angry, you tried to act like you just don’t care.

You waved her hand. “Nah, I’ve done my part.” – though you were still angry somewhat, you rather tried to act like you just don’t care.

The three of them went upstrairs, and you down in the kitchen now where you helped with the dinner to your mother and Mrs. Weasley, but they made you to sit down after almost cut your finger off, being still too distracted to handle a knife. Some time later the others joined too; and as they stepped in, you saw – not even trying to hide your surprisement – that Harry was laughing about something that Ron just said; it was honest, not fake.

Your eyebrows was still raised when he sat took the seat next to you. “Glad to see you can still smile.” – you said with an edgy tone, which caused him to close his eyes, exhaling deeply. He took a hand of yours which was in your lap, opening his mouth to answer, but you cut him off. “Yes, I know, you’re sorry.”

“I really am.” – he spoke in a low voice, sqeezing your hand. – “I know it doesn’t mean a lot to you, if I just say it…”

He was frank, and you could see a little fear on his eyes. You kept gazing at him; party because you wanted him to continue, partly because you didn’t know what to say – but you weren’t the only one. “I just… I don’t know what should I say or do to make you to forgive me.”

After a deep breath, you leaned closer; you talked in a low voice so the others couldn’t listening into your conversation, thought they were too busy to talk with each other anyway. “You don’t have to do anything. What is happening to you it’s not easy and it’s okay to have a fallback sometimes. I just want you to understand that we’re here for you, no matter what.”

He opened his mouth and closed, staying speechless for a few seconds before he shook his head, grinning. “I should treat you like a princess.”

“No.” – you started, trying to keep your face straight, but failing and started to smile broadly. – “You should treat me like queen.”

He looked down and laughed for a moment, but as it faded away, he spoke up with a heavy voice. “I don’t deserve you.”

Slipping closer with the chair, you looked deeply in his eyes. “Don’t ever say this again.”

The rest of the afternoon and night passed happier – and the next day was even better as it was Boxing Day. The morning has gone quickly as you get up late, unwrapped the presents, and stayed in your room with the others until lunch. A few more people from the order arrived for dinner; Tonks turned on some music (The Weird Sister mostly), but was in a constant debate with Mrs. Weasley, who rather wanted to listen Celestina Warbeck. You talked and laughed a lot; and since they said Mr. Weasley is getting much better now, you were all a bit more relieved.

After you ate everything you could, you were sipping on a butterbeer, only listening as Harry was talking about the D.A. with Sirius – the lots of food made you sleepy. But as something popped into your mind, you turned to Remus, who was sitting in front of Harry. “I wanted to ask you something about patronuses.”

“I’m not an expert, but I’ll try.” – he said.

“So Harry teached the charm to us on the other day, and mine is a doe.” – you stopped there, because Harry and your father was also listening at you now; they immediately exchanged a glance, looking back at you with a strange shadow in their faces. – “Well, you know his is a stag, and I was just wondering if is that means something or just a coincidence.” – Now your father was smiling, but looking down at the table while Remus’ face was still in a tiny shock. – “Thank you for the congratulations because yes, I have a corporeal patronus. But you looking at me like I just conjured the Dark Mark.” – you added jokingly, causing Harry to let out a small laugh.

Lupin face softened finally, and started to speak, though the words still left his mouth a bit heavily. “In some ways the representations of the souls, patronuses are, and as it isn’t a coincidence that Harry has the stag, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that yours is a doe. There are definitely a special connection between you two.” – he finished, leaning closer at the table.

Harry was smiling at you in a loving way, and you returned this, though you didn’t really know what you should say. Your father broke the the silence.

“Lily’s patronus was a doe too.”

“Really?” – you asked loudly in suprisement; whilst Harry stayed in silence, but he was at least as taken aback as you. A half smile hovered over on the corner of Lupin’s lups, but your father’s slowly disappeared, staring off at you and Harry. – “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” – he said after a deep inhale, now focusing on your faces. – “You just both remind me of us when we were at your age.” – Remus nodded slightly while you just listened quietly. – “And mostly I really enjoy to see this, every little thing.” – he grinned. – “But sometimes I also remember what we lost. What happened almost everyone we’ve ever cared about.”

There was a painful silence between you; only Celestina’s awfully romantic song was playing in the distance, before your father jumped of from his seat, clapped his hands and patted Harry’s shoulder, who stopped smiling, too. – “Of course it doesn’t mean anything. We’ll get through everything.” – he added with smile before he left the room, and as Remus followed him, you realized only Mundungus were there at the end of the table, sleeping with his head down, his hand still clutching on a goblet. The others were probably in the drawing room.

“What’s wrong?” – you asked Harry with a concerned face.

He shook his head, rapping his knuckles against the desk before he looked up suddenly. “They just all say I’m so much like my father… but sometimes I don’t think so.”

“Don’t start this again.” – you pleaded with a tired voice.

“I just don’t think my dad ever talked with my mom in a way I did with you.” – he said quickly, his tone like he was in a little pain.

You cupped his cheek for a moment, turning his face towards yours. “And I don’t think your father was been through all these things at age fifteen. And I also don’t think that my parents and Remus, his best friends would say that you’re like him if you wouldn’t be.”

These words visibly made him relieved; he smiled, letting out a slow breath.

“Can we focus on that my patronus is a doe only because of you?” – tilting your head on the left side, you giggled.

“Because you love me so much.” – he said almost proudly, raising his chin up before he laughed, pulling you into a hug.

“I do.” – you whispered with a content smile, burying your face into his chest.

Tags: @emmelineparker308 @aya-fay @thenerdylesbian @the-panda-jung @melorile @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @accio-procrastination @lafayettrash @ziikoraaviik @mega-mess @aknerdchick @independentgirl @raised-by-fandoms @perorulou @silencedsweats @lostxghirl @vrotki @anthonystoner @fayrizo @susie2710 @hugsnpugs1 @elthanin-adhara-black @mindofthescattered

#10 [Seth Rollins]

Requested, #10: “The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.” (Prompt from here.)

Author note: This is some straight up angst/drama.

@superkixbaybay @hiitsmecharlie @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @valeonmars @pjanina13

And the award for, the best lie goes to you. For making me believe, that you could be faithful to me….

Regret was not an emotion you were used to feeling, not truly anyways. You often thought ‘maybe I shouldn’t have done that’ or ‘I wish that hadn’t happened’, but chalked all things up to learning experiences.

Right now though, as you surveyed the backyard full of your coworkers, you regretted bringing yourself here.

At first, you had flat turned down the invitation to come to the house of Cesaro and Sonya, his long-term girlfriend and a close friend of yours. But Sonya had kept on. And on. She kept stating this was the perfect time for a backyard BBQ, as the weather was still spring-warm and not summer-sweltering. There was also mention of how you didn’t go out much anymore, to see anyone, and that you needed to stop that behavior.

You quickly located the reason you hadn’t wanted to come. He was stood further back in the yard, in a black t-shirt and gym shorts. His hair was pulled back in his typical messy bun, a stupid brimmed-hat askew on his head.

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the girl and her plants {Cedric Diggory x Reader}


SUMMARY: Shy Hufflepuff reader, who keeps to her plants and her books catches the eye of a certain Cedric Diggory.

WORD COUNT: 3153 I really love Cedric sorry. 

Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

She sat down, taking in the smell of the room, the wet dirt from the plants and old worn parchment in front of her. She loved the smells and felt like she was really at home. She sat in the Hufflepuff basement reading about Herbology. It was her favorite subject, and she was very gifted. She didn’t speak much and always kept her head down. She wasn’t noticed much, she was in the same year as Harry Potter. “The Boy Who Lived,” They labeled him everyone was focused on him, waiting for him to do something and live up to the legacy people had threaded around him. Herbology was really the only time she talked, which she seldom did. She preferred to keep to her plants and books. The only people she talked to were, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. They were her best friends and her only ones at that. They were both in different houses which explains why she spent so much time alone in the common room. She didn’t really have any friends in Hufflepuff. She was sure she could get some if she tried, they were all fairly kind. She was just so shy, and kept to herself. She walked into her favorite class, and greeted Professor Sprout, as you can guess, she was very early. She was eager to learn, although she knew more than most in her year.

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Requested by @outside-the-government Reader is a new graduate, assigned to the Enterprise to work under Spock. They’re extremely intimidated by him and he starts to wonder how they ever got such great commendations when they constantly make little mistakes. One day reader breaks down and confronts Spock.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,697

A/N: I think I have changed somethings but oh well, I hope you’ll still like it. I will also probably make a Part 2 for this.


| Part 1 | Part 2 |

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Enterprise.”

You stood in your place like moron as your roommate jumped up and down next to you while trying to shake you furiously. Enterprise. All your hardwork and sleepless nights were for this moment. And it had just came true.

“You are so lucky [Y/N]!” your roomate beamed at you and you smiled back at her, thinking that she would tell you how much you deserved it and how she was happy for you.

But of course that was never the case for her. She squeezed your shoulders and…

“You are going to serve under James Kirk! Do you realise how lucky you are? That man is hot!”

Instead of getting angry at her you just sighed and grabbed her hands. “You know I don’t care about that! I get to work in one of the best ships in the fleet!” You grinned, feeling proud.

“This is gonna be great.” you thought, determined.

Only if you knew…


You stood among the blue shirts, nervous. “It’s okay [Y/N]. You have nothing to worry about.” you thought to yourself. A small smile slowly formed on your face. Of course you had nothing to worry. You were the best student in all of your classes and you worked hard to become a science officer. What could go wrong?

“Ensign [Y/L/N], correct?”

Your smile faded as an unfamiliar and cold voice adressed you. You lifted your head to see a tall figure standing in front of you, his hands behind his back. You blinked a few times and took a step back, clearing your throat.

“It is correct… sir.” you replied and gained a more serious posture as you realised who this man (Vulcan in his case) was.

His emotionless eyes bored into yours which made you feel like a hammer was placed inside your chest. Your hands slightly shook and you hid them behind your back, trying to avoid his gaze. Everything about this man screamed “superiority” and you could not help but feel intimidated.

“Commander Spock, pleased to be your acquaintance.” he said and gave a slight nod.

His lack of emotion made you nervous. You were known among friends for your talent on reading people’s emontions easily. But the Commander in front of you gave you no chance for that, making you uneasy.

You found yourself not being able to formulate words. After what seemed like an eternity you finally managed to stutter out a “Thank you?”

At that moment you just wanted to smack yourself on the head. “‘Thank you?’ Really, [Y/N]? Way to make yourself look stupid in front of the Commander.” you thought.

Spock though only raised an eyebrow to your strange and tense behaviour, thinking it was just you -as a Human- were meant to become nervous while adapting to a new environment.

Clearing his throat to snap you out of your inner conversation he said “I am here to inform you, since you are the best new graduate assigned to the Enterprise and your experience on astrometrics and chemistry are quite fascinating, our captain decided that you are to work under me. I would like to assure you that I will do my best as your mentor and help you get settled in the ship.”

You looked at Spock, trying to see if he was joking. But you should have known better than that. Vulcans were too honest for jokes. You smiled, tried not to look away from his piercing gaze and gulped the lump in your throat.

“I am honored, sir.” you replied. A chance was given to you and you were not going to mess this up. Spock just nodded in approval and turned his back to you. “Shall we, Ensign?”

Before waiting for a reply he started walking away. You took a deep breath and fisted your hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking. “We shall.” you muttered and followed him quickly.

Unaware of the bright blue eyes observing your interaction with the commander…


“Wow you are doing a great job, [Y/N]!” the Lieutenant said happily as he looked at the equation you have been working on. You blushed at the praise.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Rivera.” you said taking your PADD from him. Lieutenant Rivera was a charming man. His brown eyes matched with his vibrant green eyes and his smile always seemed to brighten the place. He has been really helpful since your arrival on the ship. Making sure you were comfortable in the lab and helping you meeting other officers.

He was the exact opposite of a certain commander, that was for sure.

He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “I told you a billion times, call me Ace.” You quickly swatted his hand away and fixed your hair back in its place. “Alright, Ace.” you said and returned to your desk. “I am almost done with my work here, after that we can go get lunch.”

The door to the lab slid open as Spock himself made an entrance. You quickly looked in front of you and tried to focus on your work.

It’s been two weeks since you arrived but you still couldn’t keep yourself together when he was standing near you. Ace, knowing of the situation, squeezed your hand before standing up.

“Commander, how can I help you?”

You tuned out the voices for your own sake as you wrote vigorously on one of the papers, trying not to think about the man behind you. His lack of emotion made you uncomfortable. Not being able to guess his thoughts or dechiper his facial expressions made you want to rip your hair out. It was almost like talking to an android.

You were so into your thoughts that you did not realise Spock aproaching your desk. That is why when he said “Ensign [Y/L/N].” you dropped your pencil on the desk pretty loudly out of surprise. You placed a hand on your chest to calm yourself and cleared your throat.

“Commander, you startled me.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at you. “I apologize. That was not my intention.” he answered as he peered over your shoulder to the papers scattered on your desk and PADD. His eyebrows furrowed and he reached for the paper that you were just writing on, examining it for a moment. It made you feel like a high school student about to be scolded by their teacher.

“Ensign [Y/L/N]. I am afraid you have got this part of the equation wrong.” he lowered himself next to you so he could show you where you made the mistake. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. It wasn’t like you to make this kind of a mistake.

“I’m sorry, sir. I will correct it now.” you said and took the paper away from his hands, looking at it. You felt Spock’s gaze on you for a few seconds before he turned to the Lieutenant and gave a nod before leaving the lab.

You let out a breath you did not know you were holding. Ace came behind you and took the paper out of your hands. “Let’s forget about this and get some food in our system.”



Spock appeared beside you while you were working on a new stellar map. You shrieked at the sudden voice of your mentor. Spock decided to ignore your sudden outburst and took a sit next to you, looking at your handmade maps. “I am curious about your choice of methods, Ensign [Y/L/N]. While we have fully functional PADDs, you still use paper and colorful pens for mapping.” he said, tracing his fingers around the map you were working on.

You turned your attention to the maps in front of you so that you could avoid looking at his eyes. “I have been… fascinated by stars ever since I was a child. And drawing stellar maps on paper was like my hobby as a teenager. I guess old habits die hard, I transfer the maps to my PADD after I am finished with them.”

You saw Spock give you a nod from the corner of your eye before he stood up. “I came here beause I wanted to discuss your previous assignment.”

You tensed up. “What did I do wrong this time?” you asked to yourself. It’s been nearly a month since you started working on the Enterprise but it seemed like you always made sure you made something wrong whenever it involved the Vulcan before you.

“The formula you came up would have been perfect. Only problem was the oxidant amount you used in it.”

“Of course. How could I be so stupid.” you scoffed at yourself inwardly.

“It won’t happen again sir.” you said and turned to continue your work on the maps. Unexpectedly, you heard a sigh from Spock, which made you snap your head to his direction.

“I am concerned, [Y/L/N]. For an officer of your reputation, you seem to be making a lot of mistakes.

For a moment you thought you actually saw concern in his eyes. But the moment you saw it his gaze turned back to its usual stoic one and you started to think if you were imagining things.

“I am grateful of your concern sir and I assure you this is not how I usually am. I think I am having trouble, getting used to how thinks work here.” It wasn’t totally a lie. You were having trouble… getting used to him.

Spock, thought for a moment and placed his hands behind his back, like he always does. “I see, Ensign. I shall leave you alone with your work.”


You nearly fell to the ground for the third time as Commander Spock led you to the bridge.

“Your balance seems to be off today, [Y/L/N]. Maybe we should stop by the medbay first.”

“I am perfectly fine, sir.” you said as you clutched your maps in your arms, nervous. “Why did you want me in the bridge?”

“You will participate in our meeting with the captain next week as my underling. Request of Lieutenant Rivera as he thinks you are more than capable. I am to give you the reports that we will be viewing.”

Your heart thumped in your chest and you, once again, nearly fell down on your knees. They wanted an ensign? For a meeting with the captain? You felt pride fill in your chest.

“But sir, what does this have to do with my maps?..” you ask, remembering the pieces of paper in your arms.

“I… wanted to examine some of them. That is if you do not mind [Y/L/N].” the slight falter in his sentence made you look up to his face, which was a rare thing since usually you were too afraid to do so. It felt comforting to know that even though he still seemed like a robot to you he was much more content with you. He even dropped the “Ensign” while he was talking to you.

Entering the bridge you made eye contact with your new friend, Hikaru Sulu and you sent him a smile which he returned. Spock took the maps from your arms and said that he would be back with the reports soon so you approached Hikaru.

“Hey.” he said with a grin.

“Hey yourself. Don’t think I forgot about you ditching me yesterday.” you tried to look angry but smiled nonetheless. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the console and you waited for Spock patiently.

Around 5 minutes later he returned with a PADD. “Everything you need to review is in here. I expect you to be done with it before next week.” he passed you the device. You took it starting to feel nervous again. You dared to look upto his face and unsurprisingly saw his hard gaze on you.

“I… I should go, Commander.” you stuttered and took a step back but you tripped on your own feet. You fell backwards and expected to find yourself on the hard ground. But instead the surface was soft and something was wrapped around your waist.

“Well I did not expect to find a beautiful lady on my lap today but I am totally not complaining.”

You opened your eyes in shock as you came face to face with your Captain. Realising you had wrapped your arms around his neck out of instinct, you squealed and immediately tried to untangle yourself from him.

“C-captain! I’m so s-sorry I-” you tried to get up but his grip on our waist didn’t let you.

“I don’t believe we have been introduced properly. James Tiberius Kirk. Nice to meet you.”

“Ensign [Y/N] [Y/L/N].” you managed to reply.

Suddenly you felt a grip on your wrist and you were pulled upto your feet with an unhumanly strength. You came face to face with a hard chest.

“I would appreciate it if I could get [Y/L/N] back, Captain.” Spock’s voice came to your ears and your face turned red, his hand still around your wrist.

“Of course you would.” Jim said as he recalled your awkward interaction with him when you first came to the ship. “Heard a lot of good things about you [Y/N]. I’m looking forward to our meeting next week.”

Your face became even redder (if that was even possible) and you managed to say “Thank you, Captain.” He waved his hand as if he was dismissing something. “No, call me Jim. You don’t need to be so formal with me like you are with Mr. Spock here.” he looked playfully at the Commander.

“It seems I fail to understand why yo-”

“I probably should return to the lab!” your loud voice interupted their conversation as you released your wrist from Spock’s hand and dashed out of the bridge.

Once you reached the safety of the lab, you flooped down on your desk, making Ace look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What the hell was that?” you asked to yourself.


You sighed, happy with yourself as Jim dismissed the meeting. You let out chuckle when he grinned and sent a thumbs up your way before he too left the room.

“I must say that I am satisfied with how far you have become Ensign [Y/L/N].”

You jumped in your seat when the familiar voice of Spock reached your ears. You got up from your seat so that you could face him. “Thank you, sir.” your murmered your answer and look down at your feet.

“I fail to understand what I have done to you, [Y/L/N].”

Your eyes snapped to his in surprise.

“Have I done something to offend you that you have a hard time even looking at my direction?”

You didn’t understand why the question made you angry, but it did. For a moment you forgot that Spock was your commanding officer and raised your voice.

“Well, Mr. Spock. How am I supposed to look at you if I can’t tell what you are thinking in that Vulcan head of yours?”

You realised that your outburst had confused him so you tried to calm down and sat back on your chair.

“I…” you started. “I find comfort in reading emotions. It makes me believe that no matter what, we are all the same and I find it very… soothing.” you looked into his eyes. “But you… Spock, you intimidate me. With your stoic face and cold eyes. It makes me feel nerveous.” you chuckled

Feeling a little better, you rose back up. Spock seemed to be shocked, his expression slightly changed and eyebrows raised.

“I was not aware that was the case…” he said, his voice softer than ever. You blinked your eyes at him, not believing the sight in front of you. You definetly could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I apologize that I could not understand your need to… communicate with me properly.” he said, finally understanding the situation.

When you realised that you were finally able to look into his eyes without trembling, you grinned at him.

“Glad to see your smile.”

Spock’s eyebrows furrowed as his face returned to its regular state. “I did not smile [Y/L/N].”

You chuckled, becoming quite amused. “Sure you didn’t, sir.“

Double Standards (ch2 screw the after party)

olicity || ao3 || mature || light angst || 2389 || more fics

summary: Felicity is a young actress trying to be taken seriously in Hollywood. Oliver is her Oscar winning boyfriend. Everything is peachy keen for them… that is until their sex tape gets released
chapter word count: 1729
chapters: 2/3
a/n: there were a few requests for how they met…. so, here we go. 

chapter one: Leaked

“Great job out there.”

“Thanks,” Oliver smiled wide and shook the hand of yet another impressed colleague.

Following his Oscar win the previous year, he took home another Golden Globe for his most recent role in a dramatic film. It didn’t get as much fanfare as the first, but he wasn’t worried in the least. He was breaking into the more serious roles and it was only going to get better from there.

He picked up a glass of champagne and made his way through the party. His eyes fell on a young woman. She wore a gorgeous red dress with gold floral designs all the way up. Her hair pinned up, but still had a few loose curls that hung in her face. She was stunning to say the least. Felicity Smoak. He had never met her before that night, but she was the one that presented his award to him. She giggled nervously as she handed it to him. It was the sweetest thing.

“Ms. Smoak,” he said as he took a few steps closer.

“Oh, hello Mr. Queen,” she smiled up at him, “You can call me Felicity.”

She had this air of innocence to her. Definitely young and unjaded compared to his thirty years, a good ten of those being spent in Hollywood.

“Oliver,” he took her hand into his, “It’s a pleasure,” he kissed her hand gently.

He cranked up the charm to eleven as he lifted his hand and caught her gaze. Her eyes went wide and a blush filled her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she mumbled before taking a large gulp of her own champagne.

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Better Than a Movie

Prompt/Summary: Kilig (Tagalog): The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic occurs.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Other Pairings: Tony x Pepper, Wanda x Vision, Bruce x Nat, Clint x Laura

Warnings: None, I think? Maybe a couple of swear words. Honestly, this is fluff

Word Count: 3898

Beta: @thinkwritexpress-official (you’re a sweetheart)

A/N: This is for @howlingbarnes Languages of Love Writing Challenge. Pietro is alive in this one because I refuse to let him go

Originally posted by evans-and-ackles

It all started as innocent teasing.

The whole team had the habit of having a movie night every once in a while, something that some of the members had claimed would help to ease the tension and fall into comfort once again, after Steve and Tony had settled everything. It was a Thursday night, a typical movie night in the Avengers facility, when someone first said something about it, but it wasn’t the first time they had noticed it. Clint and Bucky were the first to find out about that specific characteristic about their teammate; Clint being as observant as ever, and Bucky because he was too shy at first, so he settled for looking at and studying everyone. They shared a knowing look as they watched her. Her eyes would light up brightly, her cheeks would redden, and an unstoppable grin would make its way to her lips. Her gaze would stay focused on the screen, her whole attention on whatever romantic situation was happening in the movie. It didn’t even have to be a romance movie; even if the moment was romantic or even cute, in just the slightest, she would gush silently at it. That night, the movie was Jurassic World.

“Aw.” she whispered softly as two characters kissed, her eyes fixed on the screen with a look of pure joy.

“Hey, Y/N…” Clint called.

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#102 - For anonymous x2

Filling the prompts “one when the girl Van is with is like an super famous singer or something and they meet and start dating, but he feels a bit confused as to why she chose him, a guy in a rock band, when she is a massive a-lister with tonnes of fans. Like Van feels like she is so out of his league and he got so lucky, but she loves him back and they are both happy?” and “Van falling for another touring singer. Maybe they play the same festival and he falls for you while watching backstage etc.”

Note: If you like this, @you-andthebottlemen has written a story with a similar prompt. Click here!

You were tired and just wanted a fucking nap. It was not too much to ask for. You stalked through all the backstage areas and rolled your eyes at the fuss being made about the ‘rock stars’ on tour. Every time someone moved to come to you, you ducked out of their way. You found a tent that had yoga classes in it in the morning. You were worried if you went inside someone would ask if you wanted some culturally appropriated henna tattoos. You cautiously peeked in. There were a few people lying around on bean bags holding small and quiet conversation. Perfect. There were couches that you could stretch out on completely, but they were all occupied. Only one of the occupants wasn’t asleep. You walked over to him. He was in a white button up tucked into black jeans and boots. He was on his phone.

“Sorry. Hi,” you said. He looked up at you and his smile was instant. You smiled back, unable to do anything else. There were a good few seconds before you stopped grinning at each other like idiots.

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It’s a Funny Old Game (2/2)

Killian’s not sure why he agreed to this. Well, no, that’s not true. He does. Because Henry asked. And, well, maybe they’re some kind of family now.

Emma’s not sure why she hasn’t said anything. Well, no, that’s not true. She does. Because she’s not supposed to. And, well, things were pretty good already.

Or: A quasi Out of the Frying Pan sequel with soccer.

AN: There’s an actual soccer game in this part of the soccer fic I was never planning on actually writing. Soccer and fluff and feelz. As always, I cannot say enough about @distant-rose & @laurnorder who rationalized all of these feelz and we’re like…uh, yeah, obviously you should write the thing. They’re the best. 

Also on Ao3 if you’re looking there. 

“This is, easily, the coolest thing we’ve ever done.”

“You’re not actually doing anything,” Emma pointed out, glancing at David who, appeared, to be ignoring her completely.

Mary Margaret shook her head, hitching her arm under Leo’s legs and babbling something that might have been words before turning back towards Emma. “Don’t pop this bubble for him,” she said. “He thinks he’s going to get out on the field. He’s going to collect dirt or something.”

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The Marks of Running Ink pt.13

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x ofc (Tory Miller)

Word count: 1,510

Summary: In a normal world, having a soulmate is usually considered a blessing, in a normal world, when their words appear on you finding them is not something impossible. But Tory Miller doesn’t live in a normal world. No. Her world is the stuff of nightmares, the dead walk, the living kill each other and soulmates are not important. Nothing is more important than surviving.

Warnings:  angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, cheating, general lack or morals, SLOW BURN. This far, no walkers, though. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note:  This is the second part of the birthday-double-post. I gotta thank the most awesome @jeffreydeanneganstrash​, who I can’t ever thank enough for her support and help. You rock, darlin’. Well, onto the chapter, and remember feedback makes a writer happy :D . Don’t you love birthdays?

Want to be tagged? Drop me a line, seriously.

Part 12  /  Masterlist


Tory was…tired of Henry’s love life.

She liked Peyton, he was an awesome guy who was better equipped to deal with her beloved friend and his teenage angst. Peyton’s parents were completely on board with him and Henry being soulmates, since they were soulmates as well.

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anonymous asked:

16 for the Fictional kiss prompts (bellarke) Thanks 😊

16. when one person’s face is scrunched up and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead.

Thanks for the prompt nonny! I hope you like fluffy, domestic blarke because like…this is truly the sappiest thing I’ve ever written. Enjoy! 

“Maybe we shouldn’t get married.”

There are definitely better ways to be greeted at the door after a long day of work. Bellamy had every intention of coming home, taking a long steamy shower, and cuddling with his fiancee. Instead, he’s barely cracked the door of their tiny apartment open before he’s hit with that bombshell.

When he turns to see her, face down on the coffee table and surrounded by bridal magazines, his heart rate decreases ever so slightly. He hates seeing her in crisis, but it’s also helpful to have context around her sudden proclamation of anti-marriage. Clarke never wanted a big wedding. In fact, she had suggested more than once that she’d be fine getting married at the courthouse and going out to the bar afterwards. But after being pressured by her mom into having a big wedding and feeling a strange obligation to him to do it the right way (because, yeah, maybe he had fantasies about his wedding when he was younger), she decided to do it.

He walks carefully over to her, trying his best to avoid stepping on the pieces of charcoal, torn out sketches, and open magazines. He pushes a pile of binders from next to her with his foot before taking a seat next to her. She leans back with a deep sigh, pushing a stray blonde tendril away from her face.

“The florist cancelled,” she informs him, picking at the chipping paint on the coffee table. He places his hand over hers to stop the nervous habit and rubs soothing circles into her knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” and he is. She’s been far more stressed over the whole ordeal than he ever wanted and since beginning to teach at the local University, he hasn’t be able to dedicate as much time as he’d like helping her. She tells him it’s okay, that she has it handled, but he supposes that’s only so he doesn’t feel guilty.

She leans her head on his shoulder, snuggling into the crook of his neck where she fits perfectly, “How was your day?”

He offers a slight smile, “As good as it can be during college finals week.”

She laughs softly, “That’s fair. Sorry for being dramatic as soon as you walked in the door.”

Part of the reason he fell in love with her was because of her dramatics. Clarke doesn’t do things half-assed. She’s passionate, she’s inspiring, and yeah, sometimes she’s a little overwhelming. Mostly because she cares about everything and everyone so damn much. She tries to pretend she’s strictly logical and would never admit to having emotion, something that kept them apart for years before they finally managed to get their shit together. But she does, she’s a people pleaser, and she wants nothing more than for everyone to be happy. Yet, something he’s noticed, she rarely ever focuses on her own happiness.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says suddenly, and he can feel her chin dig into his shoulder as she looks at him, “Maybe we shouldn’t get married.”

It’s her turn to have a minor heart attack because she definitely wasn’t expecting to hear that. He grips her hand a little tighter to reassure her he doesn’t mean that.

He glances down at her, nothing but adoration in his eyes, “Maybe we should just elope or something. It’d be a lot less stressful.”

He can see the gears turning in her head, the scale balancing all the pros and cons of doing just that. He knows it’s what she wants. She doesn’t care about the theatrics of it a ceremony. Most people only come to those to get drunk, anyways. Honestly, he just wants to marry her. He’s just hell bent on spending the rest of his life with her, it doesn’t matter how they do it.

“I already booked the church,” she murmurs unconvincingly, like it’s supposed to be some kind of argument.

“Ah, yes,” he goads, “Because, you know, we’re so religious.”

They aren’t. It’s a mom-pleasing thing. He has no interest in getting married in the church. He grew up in a non-religious household. Clarke grew up Catholic, but hadn’t been active in years. He knows she couldn’t care less either, her interest in religion had vastly declined since becoming a nurse.

She truly laughs then, pushing him playfully in the shoulder. He picks up one of the magazines beside him and flips through it. She’s turned down all her pages of interest, though if he knows her at all, it’s pages that would far more interest Abby Griffin. Or his sister. His sister gets really into weddings. When it falls open to a model posing in a ridiculous dress, he turns it towards her.

“You’d definitely look hot in this,” his sarcasm is evident. He’s not completely full of shit. Clarke looks hot in anything she wears, but he knows the dress isn’t exactly her taste. The dress is full feather and sequin. IF he had to guess, some big designer had created it and it probably cost thousands of dollars. Millions of brides have probably drooled over it, but she just scrunches up her face in disgust.

“I’d look like a swan,” she mutters and he kisses her forehead with a grin, smoothing out the wrinkles that formed out of her look of complete disgust.

“A swan princess,” he jokes and she shoves him again for his use of her old nickname. Princess used to be an insult, hurtled by him to make her feel bad when he got defensive. Not long after, again, when they got their shit together, it became a term of endearment. She hates it still.

He falls over into the stack of magazines, the pages making an unpleasant crinkling noise from under his back. She climbs on top of him and pins him to the ground with a satisfied smirk. He snakes his arm up her back and tangles his hand into her thick curls.

“I mean it,” he grows serious, “We don’t have to do a big wedding. I would marry you in a parking lot. I don’t care.”

She sinks into his touch and closes her eyes, “I love you, you know that?”

He pulls her down into a slow kiss, making sure she knows just how much he loves her too. He could kiss her a million times and never be satisfied. Spending the rest of his life doing it? It’s a dream come true.

They marry on a beach in Florida somewhere with ten of their closest friends and family. Afterwards, they get drunk at a dive bar and he swears he’s never seen her smile like that.  Everything is perfect.

Creepypasta #259: The Joys of Cat-ownership

I love cats. They’re so fuzzy and mischievous…totally adorable.

Well, not always adorable. Sometimes they’re destructive, annoying, and loud. Especially at night.

Any cat owner can tell you what it feels like to wake in the middle of the night to the sound of your beloved pet racing from one end of the house to the other and back at top speed, or to jump out of bed at the sound of a crash, certain you’re being robbed, to find your cat looking innocently up at you from a pile of pieces that probably used to be one of your most expensive possessions.

All cats are experts at demanding your attention, whether they’re jumping on your laptop while you’re writing that email or pawing at your face first thing in the morning to wake you. What they do in the night is likely just another method for making sure they keep your attention.

My cat especially is an innovator in this field. She’s a young tabby, just under a year old by the vet’s estimate. My boyfriend and I adopted her six months ago from a rescue run out of an older couple’s home. She’s always been an attention grabber with a sweet-and-sour attitude; she’ll hop right into my lap, knocking whatever I’m working on out of my hands, but she won’t let me pet her. She’ll nip at my hands if I try. Her bids for attention have changed a bit in the few months we’ve had her. She used to meow loudly for food any time I was in the kitchen, and try to paw her way into the cabinet where her food is stored. Now I only have to worry if I accidentally leave it open or leave the bag of dry food out on the kitchen floor, because she doesn’t hesitate to shred it up with her claws trying to get to the food.

Recently, however, she’s been acting really strangely. There’s a sound she makes when she sees birds and squirrels through the window, kind of like a barking/chirping noise. Apparently this is a normal part of the feline hunting routine. What’s strange is that lately she’s started doing that in our bedroom, to the wall opposite the windows. She’ll stare at a spot high on the wall, making that noise and trying to jump up to the spot like she thinks there’s something to catch there. It would be cute, if it didn’t make me worry she had vision problems or some other issue. The vet says she’s fine, so I just attribute it to her goofy personality.

It isn’t just the pseudo-hunting in the bedroom. Cats often have a habit of pawing their humans’ faces in the morning to wake them, but mine has started doing it in the middle of the night. She’ll paw at my face for a bit until I push her away, and then she’ll meow sorrowfully for a moment before hopping up and snuggling between me and my boyfriend. That’s another thing; this cat is not a snuggler. She likes to lay on my lap while I’m awake, but she does not particularly enjoy being held or cuddled and often snaps at me if I try to cover her with a blanket. Now she’ll climb under the blanket with us on her own. I’m starting to worry about her.

Now I know these peculiarities don’t sound all that odd, but something has just seemed…off, lately. Between my cat waking me and my boyfriend hogging the bed, I haven’t gotten much sleep. I’m always the last one to get to bed, so the cat and I are often the only two awake for a few hours each day. She likes to be right next to or on top of me during this time. I usually just watch or play something on my computer, or crochet. Sometimes I use this time to do laundry, but I don’t like going into the basement at night.

Now, I’ve seen some actual creepy basements in my young life. This isn’t really one of them. I used to work in a family-owned bookstore in the historic part of our city. It spanned two storefronts and the basements were joined. There were endless floor-to-ceiling shelves down there used for storing products and packing materials. There were plenty of lights, but the shelves made them ineffective anywhere but in their own aisles. There were pipes running through the whole area, several of which were low enough to require the employees to duck. There was a large wooden door on one wall with a red light coming from within through a knot in the wood. Certainly it was a boiler room or utilities room or something of that nature, but let me tell you, the time I spent alone slicing up cardboard boxes with a box cutter right next to that door was a bit tense.

That was a creepy basement. The one in our house now, not so much. It’s empty, only two rooms. The stairs lead right to the middle of the space, with the laundry room on the left between the stairs and the back wall. It has another wall between it and the wall opposite the stairs but no door, so technically I suppose it’s all one room, except for a small closet under the stairs. The main space wraps around the stairs and the laundry room in an L-shape, and this is part of what I don’t like; I can’t see the whole room from the stairs. I’m one of those paranoid people who always sits in the corner of the room where I can see everything and I can’t stand to have anyone behind me. Going downstairs to arrive in the middle of a poorly lit room with several parts I can’t see is not fun for me. Even worse, the lights have been changing.

There are plenty of lights in the basement, the problem is that they don’t all work. Usually it seems like only the light in the middle of the room, at the base of the stairs, comes on, and it’s faint. There’s a separate switch at the bottom of the stairs for the laundry room, which has just been redone and thus has bright, working lights. But before I reach that switch, there’s very little light to go on. Recently, though, more of the lights in the basement will come on when I flip the switch, and sometimes the main light doesn’t go on with them. I mean, I guess that’s not too unusual. The house is old, and aside from the laundry room no one has touched the wiring in the basement for at least 40 years. It’s unnerving, though. I’m logical and detail-oriented, so changes like this make me want a more concrete explanation than “the lights are old.”

So, back to my cat’s strange behavior. There are two bedrooms upstairs that we’ve just been using for storage until we decide what to do with them. She has started wandering around the upstairs and meowing plaintively sometimes. Because the rooms are mostly empty, even her quiet voice echoes around up there. It sounds like she’s crying. I’ve brought her the vet several times since we got her; first for a basic check-up, and then out of concern over her eating habits. She’s finishing up her last round of worm medication and is otherwise healthy, so I know she’s not crying out of pain. I wonder if she’s lonely. That would explain why she keeps trying to wake me up in the middle of the night.

I’d love to get her a new feline friend, but my other half is going to take some convincing. I’ll have to start working on him tomorrow. Just thought I’d throw this up on my blog and see if anyone else has had similar issues with their cats.

My cat was not lonely.

She was not hungry, or bored.

She was terrified.

She woke me up last night, pawing at my face and mewing quietly but urgently at me. I tried to just ignore her, hoping she’d give up and settle down, but instead she extended her claws a bit. She managed to hit my right eye hard enough to make it water, then dodged my arm as I swiped at her, jumping up behind me and snuggling under the blanket between me and my boyfriend. She went very quiet and still.

Fuming, I thought about getting up to look at my eye in the mirror but decided against it; the room was cold, and my bed was warm. I decided to just keep the eye open until it stopped throbbing. Since I was laying on my right side with my long hair fanned out on my pillow, it fell across my face enough to block most of the light from the bathroom night light coming through the open bedroom door. As I waited to be able to close my eye and go back to sleep, I heard a noise.

The basement door was opening on its own.

Or so I thought, until I heard almost-silent footsteps navigating the kitchen with expert steps. Even in the dark, whoever it was managed to avoid the table, chairs, laundry baskets, litter box, garbage can, and cat food dishes without so much as a bump or a clink. I froze, not daring even to close my right eye or open my left. Through my hair I could see a large dark shape enter the bedroom and stop right in front of me. I prayed it couldn’t see my open eye as a thousand scenarios played themselves out in my mind.

Somehow my mind got hung up on the fact that it hadn’t tripped over anything in the kitchen, so this wasn’t the first time it had watched us while we slept. That fact kept me trying to breathe as I would in sleep, hoping that if it hadn’t done anything to us in our sleep during previous visits it wouldn’t start now. My cat was a warm, silent lump behind me, hiding beneath the blanket in terror.

Nothing happened for a few minutes. My right eye was still sore, and felt extremely dried out because I hadn’t blinked once. The shape didn’t move, standing so still I started to wonder if the cat had actually damaged my eye with her paw, creating the dark blur I was seeing.

Suddenly, I felt a movement from behind me. My boyfriend was stirring. I tried hard not to panic, unsure of what to do. Ordinarily I’m the kind of person who will grab a knife to go investigate a strange noise, but there were no knives in the bedroom and I didn’t know if the dark form was armed. It was definitely at an advantage, already standing above me, not tangled in blankets as I was. As my boyfriend shifted, it moved out of the room, back through the kitchen, through the basement door. I heard it close quietly.

I was pretty sure it hadn’t known I was awake. It wasn’t looking for a conflict; it had fled as soon as my boyfriend started to wake up. I felt him get out of bed to go to the bathroom and reached for my phone quickly. I didn’t want him to panic. I didn’t want the thing in the basement to know I saw it until it was too late. I dialled the police and reported a home invasion as calmly and quietly as I could. When I’d hung up, I got up myself, giving my boyfriend a hug and a kiss as I passed him on my way to the bathroom. I had to come up with excuses to stay awake until the police arrived without alerting the thing in the basement.

Finally there was the sound of sirens and a knock on the front door. I felt awful when my boyfriend came out of the bedroom and looked at me in confusion and concern as I opened it without a word, but there would be time for explanations later. I wanted whoever was in our basement behind bars. Tonight.

The police searched the whole house, but didn’t find anyone or anything as large as I’d described. The doors and windows were all locked and dead bolted from the inside, as we always kept them, but beneath the basement stairs they found a few bloody feathers and the bones of small wild animals. There was no point of entry for any animal from the outside, and there weren’t whole carcasses or skeletons, just a few bloody remnants of what looked to be, from the bite marks on the bones, someone’s last few meals.

The police didn’t know what to make of it, and to my knowledge no one has been arrested in connection with the “break-in” that left all of our doors and windows perfectly secured. I told my boyfriend what I’d witnessed and why I hadn’t alerted him sooner. We got a security system, added more lighting to the basement, knocked down the interior walls, and exchanged our normal stairs for a spiral staircase, eliminating the closet below the stairs and allowing for a full view of the entire basement from the top or bottom of the staircase.

Our cat started acting normally again. After months of wondering about her strange behavior I now realize that her demands for attention weren’t an indication that I should be worried for her, rather a sign of her concern for all of us. So the next time your pet starts acting up with no apparent medical reason, be on alert. Like I said, to my knowledge the thing under our stairs hasn’t been caught.

Credits to: Amanda Laven

At Night [EdmundxF!Reader] [Modern!AU One-Shot] [Request]

(Had to re-post this because tumblr hates me… -.-)

An awesome Anon asked me for the following:

Can I get one where Edmund is either really tired or slightly intoxicated and accidentally slips out that he likes (y/n)? Your imagines are great <3

I hope you like it! :3

[If you enjoy my writing, feel free to request something when requests are open! ^^]

At Night

Fic Summary: She couldn’t sleep and he was the reason for it.

Word Count: 2,2k

Warnings: None

(y/n) locked her phone and buried her head in a pillow with a sigh. It was the middle of the night and she just couldn’t sleep. Although it was unlikely, it might’ve been the fact that she wasn’t staying in her own room. Her parents had left over the weekend and seeing as she still was an ‘innocent little baby girl that needed constant protection’, they’d insisted she stayed at a friend’s house. Jeez, if they only knew that their baby girl had fought wars and led armies. With a shake of her head, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She liked this house, she’d spent a lot of her childhood here, playing with her friends, but nonetheless, she’d rather be home right now. She was thankful that she could stay with them, but she’d prefer to be alone in her own bed at the moment. She’d had a crappy day and she didn’t want to worry them. Although… Matter of factly, she’d already failed at that…

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Dating Advice - Liam Dunbar Imagine (Feat. Scott McCall)

Prompt requested by girlinfandoms - Hey, could you do a Scott and Liam imagine, where you Scott’s younger sister and you have a crush on Liam, and it comes out at a pack meeting and Liam ends up asking you out on a date

Prompt requested by jacksjawlineandmattsface - Hi is the request box open? If so do you mind doing a request where you and liam like each other and everyone knows that the feelings are mutual except you to and he’s too shy to ask you out and then Scott or stiles or someone gives him a pep talk about it p.s. You are an amazing writer and I’m so glad I found your blog :)

A/N: I decided to combine these two prompts together since the plots are very similar. Thank you for requesting and I hope you like what I came up with. Let me know what you think. Happy reading! :D

My Teen Wolf Master List

They say when you fall in love you remember every detail of that moment and they’re not talking about the clothes you wore, how you had your hair, or the things that were said. They’re talking about what you felt in that moment. The excitement of butterflies in your stomach, the nerves taking over your body, and the sudden anxiety of realizing you have no control over this feeling. That’s what Liam felt the moment he saw Y/N walking through Scott’s front door the evening of his first pack meeting nearly a month ago.

Once he learned Y/N was Scott’s little sister, everything changed. Liam had just joined Scott’s pack and he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with his alpha, but as the days went by his feelings towards Scott’s little sister became stronger. He couldn’t ignore it. The heart wants what the heart wants.

So here he was in front of Scott’s house, ready to do something about his feelings towards Y/N. Liam took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door three times.

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