i need to go to bed before i am overtaken by feels for these two

Mental breakdown tag lol

do I use this script or not

also vedj - still going, but will probably miss some days and that’s OKAY
I’m worried for this video, because rather than generalising mental illness as important, and needs to be talked about, I go into detail about the specifics of what I’m feeling. And it’s not pretty. If you can’t relate, and I hope you don’t, I’m going to seem very very strange. But mental illness isn’t simple, it’s not all let’s blow on thumbs together to stop these darn panic attacks, or this cute cartoon girl crying in a corner. It’s so much bigger and uglier and more complex.
I haven’t been making videos because I didn’t know how to when my head has been consumed and overtaken by what I’m about to talk about. But I think I’ve figured it out.
so here’s the thing
you may have seen on twitter
i mentioned that i haven’t really felt like i’m here since i was 17 in a vid recently
and then within the last week that sort of upped as a problem by like, 80%
i went to wales for some shoots, felt crazy the whole weekend, then came back and got very panicky about the fact that I was going mad
I had slept fine, and I kept expecting to wake up better, but I just didn’t
I’ll explain what this all actually is and how it feels in a bit, plz hold
so I got back, and knew that I felt messed up, so tried registering to the doctors
walked there, in my weird dream state, took a proof of address cause I knew I needed that, handed it in, and then they said that I needed proof of address within the last two months
i was teetering on the edge of tears and also feeling really weird so I think they must have thought I was actually insane
I forgot how to say thanks and bye so I think I just left, dunno
walked home, in this strange, bright dream world
tried finding proof of address, forgot how to talk to my housemate, scared she was going to notice that I was drunk, except i wasn’t drunk
and then my mum called and said dodie
are you okay
and I just sort of
broke
i was sobbing, rummaging through bin bags to try to find some sort of proof of address, on the phone to mum, and I decided to visit home home for some sort of familiarity, cause I used to feel so normal and alive in that house, when I was younger
so I went home home, crying on the train, panicking about the fact that I was going mad and all my friends were like dodie wtf
that was when I tweeted saying I needed a break
then I saw mum and started crying about the fact that I left my old bedroom bed in dovan flat, cause I just wanted my normal bed in my normal room so I could feel normal
and I came home but of course I wasn’t magically cured because going to that house is not the same as time travel
i’m not taking a trip to 2012 when I go home, as much as I want to, i’m a broken dodie visiting a broken house and a broken ish family
I even visited my old primary school which shut down, like, years ago, and I wandered around with hedy
I don’t think that helped, cause it felt like it had just, grown leaves and aged in like 20 seconds
it just made me feel even weirder
so what am I feeling? Okay. let me explain. Or try to.
here are a bunch of messages I have sent to friends of mine, to try and explain wtf this is
“i’m so tired
I’m just so tired I feel like I’ve been awake for 4 days And I don’t feel like I’m here I feel like I’m drunk Like I’ve had three wines and shots and beer and I’m tired and ready to go home and I can’t talk to anyone because I’ve forgotten how I usually talk
I don’t even look like me
Everything is so wrong and weird and scary
I honestly think I’m going mad
I can’t stop crying
I’ve got such a bad headache” to lucy
And I’ve just constantly felt like Drunk and blind You know when you’re hammered
And everything’s really bright and you can’t remember how to talk properly and you’re not really taking anything in cause you feel really weird and you can touch things and see things and talk to people but you’re not really There
I genuinely genuinely think I’ve gone mad
And I don’t know if I’m ever going to see things like normal again” to sammy
“Here’s the thing
I’m alive
I can breathe
I can eat and talk and sleep and see and feel
So I should be okay
And objectively, I am fine
So why am I not
It’s one of those things that I keep thinking about over and over to the point where my head is like is this really happening and then I’m like is WHAT really happening
I used to not understand mental illnesses at all
I was like
Just think of cats and rainbows
But now I get it
It’s so much deeper in your brain than cats and rainbows
I used to say if I ever got dementia or something id fight it
But how can you fight it when the it is the thing you’re using to fight with
Dodie has gone full blown mad” to jon
now, thanks to the last vid, and to google, I’ve found out what this probably is
and I’m trying my best to register and see a doctor and get therapy and sort this out and also
I know what you’re thinking
if you have no idea what I’m talking about, if you’ve never had anything even close to this, if you are mentally dandy
you’re thinking dodie
you sound mental
just shut up,
turn it off
you’re fine
you’re obsessing over nothing, you’re attention seeking, just stop thinking about it
firstly, I am so happy and thankful that you feel normal and happy and go and enjoy your life because you can
and secondly, I would do anything to turn this off and feel normal again, literally anything. But I can’t. not right now. I don’t know how.
so. here’s my plan.
I’m going to act fucking normal.
I can still sing. I am still alive, on this planet, even though I don’t feel like it. I still find things funny, I still can taste food, I can make jokes, and write songs and hang out with friends, even though I literally feel like I’m hiding something from everyone and I keep looking at everyone as if I’m a robot.
but I’m going to sort this out, somehow. I’m going to sleep before midnight and wake up before 9, I’m going to give myself weekends, I’m going to do mindfullness meditation at 11am, and Im going to go running at least twice a week and eat healthy and drink water and not drink too much alcohol and treat myself when I’ve done well and not overwhelm myself. And I’m going to go to a doctor, and then therapy, and deal with this. But this will not consume me.
Yeah I feel fucking weird. Bring it. I’m so done with the constant buzz in my head - why do I feel like this why do i feel like this why do i feel like this
I just do. And I can’t change it right now. It’s not going to turn off. and I can’t just stop the world until I feel normal again, because I’ll get to my 70s and be like well shit, I missed it all.
So I’m going to do the best I can. I’m going to make the videos that make me happy. And I’m going to laugh about the fact that I’m a bit mental. Cause what else can you do.

Whilst I type this I’m on the phone to my bank to get a statement sent to prove my address to go BACK to the doctors to prove I live here then get an appointment to get referred to therapists. The NHS may be free but it’s not bloomin easy lol.

gotta say making this video was super healthy for me. It was good to edit together and see that I can pass as a functioning human.

Know Who You Are

Summary: In which you come home and remind Bucky who he is. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,081 

A/N: Inspired by Know Who You Are from the Moana soundtrack. This was supposed to be a drabble, but apparently I’m no good at the whole short and sweet thing. 

@avengerstories - you’ll forever be my editing hero

Originally posted by the-way-im-feeling

If a man tortured by his nightmares is crying and no one is around to hear him, does he actually make a sound?

For months, the answer to that question was no.

No one knew about the way Bucky thrashed around like a madman in his sleep. They had no clue that the blankets that covered him became a cage that he couldn’t escape every night. They didn’t realize that his mind was exactly the same.

They didn’t know that he woke up with tears in his eyes that he didn’t remember shedding. They failed to hear him shout for the help that wasn’t coming. They were unaware that the first thing he did when he woke up was jump out of bed and search his surroundings, looking for the evil monster that lurked in his dreams. They were never there to watch the light leave his azure eyes when he looked in the mirror and realized that the monster he was running from was himself.

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Want

Request: #11 with Jaebum? :)

11) You live across the street from your bias group’s dorm and they still haven’t invested in curtains

Member: Got7′s JB x Y/N

Type: Fluff/smidge angst


You leaned further into the center of your desk, trying not to let your chin slide from your palm. It was close to midnight as you finally adjusted your gaze from your notebook and up to the window sitting just on the opposite side of your desk. The blinds were still wide open, your arms much too lazy to tug at the dangling string. You eyes danced across the glass, noting the smudges and tiny insect carcasses long since dried up on the outer screen. Eventually the blur of the outside world seemed to solidify as you became more in tune with the whir of the few cars intermingling on the road. Your eyes lifted from the street, focusing on the building only a stone’s throw away from yours. Seoul was small and quickly growing, so nothing was incredibly far apart, and the only way to grow was up. This also meant that you could see easily into the building facing yours. 

You tilted your head, furrowing your brows a bit to see more clearly. The complex across the way was owned by the same property managers that owned your building, so you often saw it’s residents in passing at the communal mailboxes. The man you now saw lounging on the couch was someone you hadn’t recognized, but you weren’t surprised. It was widely known amongst the tenants that you had celebrities in your midst, idols to be exact. You had seen a few of them on occasion, incredibly good looking, even when in every day clothes and checking the mail. 

This man was no exception. 

As soon as your eyes laid on him, you knew his status. He was too handsome to be an average, every day citizen. No, he was definitely one of the idols rumored to coexist amongst you all. 

You watched curiously as he chewed idly on shrimp chips. his hands deep in the bag while his eyes stayed glued on the television screen mounted to the wall. For a moment, you began to feel increasingly creepy, realizing you were in essence, casually stalking a neighbor. You quickly calmed your concerns as your eyes remained unmoved, realizing that if he moved his line of sight slightly to the left, he could see you just as clearly. 

You lived in a culture of watching each other. What was the difference between googling this guy and pulling up his wikipedia page and watching him in live action? 


Jaebum knew you were watching him again. He tried to keep the sly smile off of his face as he continued to glance at you from his peripherals. He knew you as Y/N of Apartment 1733. Student by day, barista by night, worried mess by late am. He knew more about you than he was happy to admit, but had also noticed you much sooner than you had him.

He tried to ignore you as you stood from your school work, dragging a tired hand through your hair. Much like him, you worked strange hours and never seemed to get enough rest. It made it convenient for him to monitor you from afar. You were very obviously one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. You weren’t conventionally attractive or cookie cutter, but that’s what enticed him. You were unique and authentically you.

Jaebum openly turned, setting his attention on your window as you paced behind your desk chair. He had never been affected by a girl in this way before, so his thoughts were in a flurry. Usually his naturally cold and serious nature, which his members noted as “chic and sexy,” was enough to catch any girls attention. He had never been one to struggle with smooth pick up lines or come up with a plan, but they had never existed in a completely opposing space before. 

As he noticed you begin your nightly rituals, signifying you were going to bed soon, he began to panic. He needed to catch your attention and fast. He stood, with shaking hands and a pounding heart and quickly began to disrobe. He pulled off his hoodie and t shirt and slithered from his jeans. He only stopped once he was in his boxer briefs and tank top. He sauntered to the window, still lacking curtains even though he had lived there for months. He gave a good stretch and waited patiently. Maybe it was a last ditch effort, using his body and it’s lack of clothing to entice you, but hey, when words failed, who’s to say that visuals would?


You stretched above your books, attempting to get ahold of the string dangling above your blinds. You looked up for a moment, nearly choking as you caught sight of him. The mysterious idol you had been keeping an eye on had appeared closer to the glass separating the two of you, near naked. 

You traced up his features. Your eyes started at his toned calves, rippling under the pressure of his thick thighs. Both sat beneath his impressive bulge, which your eyes were quickly drawn to. They lingered there for a moment as you finally looked up, tracing the thin cotton of his tank top. Next you noticed his broad shoulders, only to go back down and focus on his veiny biceps and forearms. After you were content with your inspection, you let out a pleasant sigh, forcing yourself to acknowledge his handsome face. 

You audibly swallowed as you were suddenly overtaken by the feeling of being watched. You stared in horror as you realized, he was watching you just as closely as you were him…and he was actually chuckling. 


You cringed as you began to walk up to the small mail area in your apartment complex, trying to decide if you wanted to turn on the spot and jog back upstairs. You were mortified by the broad shoulders you had grown familiar with in the past few weeks, too accustomed with who they belonged to without having to say a word. 

Instead of running, you decided to tiptoe quietly behind him, making yourself as small as you possibly could as you slid your key into the lock of your box. Of course the universe, which had let you quietly exist for so long, would not allow you to do that now.

“Hey,” his deep voice said softly. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to decide what to do. You reopened them, turning to look your neighbor directly into the eyes. He was already smiling at you, a grin that was very obviously trying to hide a chuckle behind his lips. 

“Hi,” you breathed shortly, averting your gaze back to the mailbox. 

“I don’t know if we’ve met. I’m Im Jaebum,” he hummed with a bow. 

“Not technically,” you groaned, slamming your box shut and pointing to the label on the front. “I’m Y/N. 1733, but I think you know that already?”

Jaebum’s face fell for a moment, completely caught off guard by your comment. It took a few seconds, but a smirk found his mouth again as he searched your face. “I’m used to an audience.”

“Ugh,” you moaned as you turned, ready to escape back upstairs. 

“Wait, Y/N!” he called, his voice urgent. You immediately stopped and looked over your shoulder. 

“What?”

“I hope I can keep your attention.”


Jaebum slung his arm halfheartedly around the random girl’s shoulders. He had already forgotten her name and was pretty bored with the conversation she presented, but it has been almost a month. Almost a month since he had pulled his stunt and finally made eye contact. A month since he had ran into you getting the mail and tried to continue contact. A month since you had given him even more fuel to continue his quest. He had a plan. 

And admittedly, it was a shitty one. 

After he thoroughly disgusted you and caused you to flee upstairs, he immediately kicked himself. The envelopes nestled between his knuckles became crumpled with frustration. Why couldn’t he have just asked you out for coffee or something? 

Then again, maybe it was too late for that. 

He looked up lazily from his date’s face and to the window, making careful note that your blinds were open, a sight he hadn’t seen in weeks. His next stunt could either ruin that or send you back his way. He wasn’t certain yet. His brows lifted as he saw your familiar frame plop into the chair situated directly before your window. You cast a wary eye his way, freezing as you saw his date on the couch. 

Jaebum took a deep breath as he pulled his date closer. Lindsey? Luna? Lynn? Whatever her name was he needed to act quickly. If he were going to make you jealous it better be before you closed the blinds. He grabbed at the back of her neck, holding her steady and halting her words. Without any coaxing she leaned into him, closing her eyes in preparation for a kiss. Jaebum’s eyes searched her face, uncertainty filling his veins. He remained still, unsure if he could actually go through with it. He looked over his date’s shoulder and back to your window. You were still watching. 

Jaebum shook his head, muttering a quiet curse as he let go of the girl’s neck and fell back onto the couch. He ran a wary hand through his hair and groaned. “Get out.”

Once again, the dim girl rolled with his punches, standing and collecting her things. After she had left the dorm, he sighed, looking up toward your window again. He was ashamed of his actions and sick of playing games. 

He was ending it now.


You furrowed your brows and squinted, continuing to watch Jaebum scramble around his apartment. He had just kicked out a girl prettier than you could ever be and now seemed to be drunkenly tearing apart his dorm. It was strange, but so was this whole situation. 

After a few moments, JB finally halted his motions and stopped in front of the window where he made eye contact. He beat on the glass to further catch your attention. You gave a brief nod, signaling that you were engaged with the exchange. He immediately pointed to the street and hurried toward what you thought to be his front door where he stepped out into the hallway. 

You heaved a sigh as you slipped on your shoes and tugged on a jacket, you couldn’t believe you were humoring him. 

You reached the street before he did, tapping your foot as you waited impatiently near a street lamp. The road was quiet tonight, only hosting the occasional car down it’s pavement. You sighed again, checking your phone before you looked up, jumping at the sight of Jaebum as he had appeared directly across the street from you. 

You lifted your brows, shrugging at him. 

“I couldn’t do it,” he called out, his voice carrying just enough to be heard over the sounds of the city.

“It or her?” you yelled back, rolling your eyes. 

“I wanted to kiss you,” he whined, the noise sounded foreign to even himself as it escaped his lips.

“You don’t even know me,” you called.

“I want to,” he shouted. He nodded with a hopeful smile. “So then I can kiss you.”

Originally posted by study-me-misha

My sweet @novaurora13 aka @beesoo13 provided me all the plot for this prompt, so make sure to send that cutie some love

Undo (5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Epilogue | Epilogue: We Meet Again

Description: “It’s getting harder and harder to control myself around you.”

Warnings: age gap, mentions of death, smut

Word Count: 3,879

Pairing: Park Chanyeol x Reader

Author: Admin Xiufairy ㅅㅇㅅ

For the next week, no memories came back to you, no matter how much kissing you and Chanyeol did. Although, at this point, you weren’t quite sure that you…wanted to remember. Sure you missed a lot, but with memories and the past came pain. Why would you want to remember the pain? You enjoyed spending time with Chanyeol.

“(Y/N)?” His sweet voice called for you and realized you were still laying in his bed. You sat up, feeling the comfortable fabric of his t-shirt against your skin. You stretched your arms out before you stood up.

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Alone, Until I Get Home (1/?)

Summary: In Boston, Henry Swan’s six-year-old brother Ian finds a book titled “Once Upon a Time” hidden beneath the seat in their mom’s old yellow bug. As soon as Henry touches it, he remembers.

Season 3 Canon Divergence-Emma finds out she’s pregnant a few weeks after she and Henry leave Storybrooke with new memories and new lives. Nearly seven years later, another Dark Curse puts her family in danger, and Emma must return to Storybrooke to help them.

Who’s powerful enough to cast the Dark Curse? And how the hell is she going to tell Hook they have a son together?

A/N: You don’t have to have read “I belong to you, you belong to me” to understand and/or enjoy this one, but this is basically a “what if Emma had gotten pregnant with Ian right after Neverland instead of in Camelot” sort of scenario, with a shit ton of other stuff (angst! adventure! fluff! confused pirate dad Killian!) thrown in.

I hope you’re ready for this new adventure because I AM REALLY FUCKING EXCITED!!!!!!!

Thank you to @losttalongthewayy for all your help editing and for listening to all my worries concerning this fic; you’re incredible!!!

Also posted on: AO3

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Under the influence 1/1

This is what happens when I have late night conversations with @scully-loves-ruthie and we find epic gifs that just leave us howling.  This also features the prompt ‘I think you need stitches’ from @frangipanidownunder and  ‘Are you trying to flirt? Because you’re embarrassing yourself’ from anon.  It’s just ridiculous fluff but I promised @frizzyhairedbitch85 some fluff so here it is. @today-in-fic


It’s fair to say I have seen Mulder in some fairly compromising situations during our long and chequered partnership and while occasionally his actions have left me mildly bemused as to how to proceed, the sight of my partner - a law enforcement officer no less - standing practically naked at the dessert table surrounded by an assortment of senior citizens who are staring with mouths agape as he happily washes his face with the warm brown liquid chocolate that is streaming from the fountain that is the table’s central attraction is a fucking new one on me.

But I should probably start at the beginning.

We found ourselves ensconced in this mid-size town at the edge of nowhere a few days ago, the reports of an apparition of the spectral peeping Tom variety terrorising the young female population had piqued Mulder’s interest although I’m still not completely convinced exactly which part of the case had held such appeal to him that it necessitated a flight across country before the ink had even dried on the 302. 

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Time for a story - Felicity’s truth

Previous chapters in the storyline: 1 

Originally posted by yet-i-remain-quiet

The Dragon Lady’s return had managed to do what no day alone with five kids had ever accomplished – it had brought her to the verge of her physical and emotional endurance. Never in her life had Felicity felt this exhausted and defeated and it wasn’t because of the lack of sleep but because of whole mess of a situation they were in.

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Certainly

A/N: An anon request where Reid gets custody of Henry and Michael, after “something happens to JJ and Will.” Sad was really the only way this request would work. Sorry >.< AU Season 12, no jail arc. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @lukeassmanalvez @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 

                                                             —-

As Spencer ran into the emergency room, his heart pounded inside his chest. This couldn’t possibly be happening. He was living in a nightmare with no ability to wake up. Emily had called him from the car, tears garbling her speech as she told him that JJ and Will had been in a head-on car collision on the way home from a date. “What?” He screamed, jumping out of bed and pulling on his clothes as he stumbled out of the door, still talking to Emily. “What happened? Are they okay? Emily, are they going to be okay? Please! Tell me they’re going to be okay!”

His voice caught in his throat as he sped toward the hospital, not caring that a cop came up behind him; he ignored him until he got to the hospital and the officer called after him. “Look, arrest me later,” Spencer said as he ran inside. “I can’t be bothered right now.”

Once he found Emily and the rest of the team, he took in their defeated faces and knew - he just knew. “No,” he breathed, his eyes spilling over with tears as he crumpled like a piece of paper onto the floor. “What happened?” How could this be real?

“Drunk driver,” Luke said flatly, not making eye contact with anyone as he stared down the hallway toward the operating room where he’d watched them both flatline. “Hit them head on. They both made it here, but…”

Nothing else needed to or could be said. The defeated members of the BAU sat motionless in the middle of the hospital. From the silence, Garcia choked out a sob and fell to Spencer’s side on the floor, and he joined her, his cries echoing throughout the extensive emergency room, which somehow, right now, seemed so small. 

                                                             —-

“Jennifer and Will?” The surgeon asked, calling for loved ones. 

As they looked up, nearly all were overtaken again in a wave of emotions as they took in the sight of him covered in blood, some dried and caked to his scrubs, some new and still dripping downward. Spencer was the first to stand up; he was numb and autopilot was taking over. “Yes?”

“I am truly sorry for your loss,” he said. Surgeons had to lose people on the table all the time, but by the look on his face, the BAU could tell that this hit him differently than any other. “I did all that I could, but there was nothing I could do. The bleeding was too extensive. Again…I’m so sorry.”

Tara punched the seat as she stood up and walked toward the opposite end of the room. Garcia openly sobbed again, after feeling like there were no more tears left. Luke, Rossi and Stephen couldn’t move. And Emily, who had stood for the surgeon, sank back into her seat. Although they all knew, they’d been secretly hoping that this was all a big mistake and that JJ and Will would emerge from somewhere safe, unscathed and smiling. But they were gone. That’s when it hit Spencer. “Oh my god,” he said, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“What is it?” Emily asked.

Spencer’s heart dropped. “How are we supposed to tell Henry and Michael? What happens to them?”

                                                             —-

While Emily, Luke, Tara, Rossi and Stephen filled out every piece of paper imaginable for the release of JJ and Will into their custody, Spencer and Garcia took it upon themselves, as Henry and Michael’s godparents, to tell the two young boys what happened.

Before walking up to their apartment, where the nanny was currently with them, Spencer threw up outside. “How are we supposed to do this?” He asked Garcia. “They’re so little.”

Garcia grabbed his hand and they steadied themselves before walking in. The nanny collapsed into tears. The boys were asleep, so Spencer and Garcia had a moment to control themselves before they arrived. “Uncle Spencer? Aunt Penelope?” Henry asked sleepily. “What are you doing here?”

The next few moments went by in a blur. Michael, at barely two, wasn’t old enough to comprehend what either of his godparents were saying, but Henry was a different story. “Was it a case?” He sniffled.

“No,” Spencer replied, hating himself for being the messenger. “It was a drunk driver. He hit your Mommy and Daddy and they were hurt too badly for the doctors to do anything. I’m so sorry, Henry.”

Spencer’s heart ripped open at Henry’s cries. The last time he’d heard him cry was as a toddler when he wanted a toy he couldn’t have. Hearing him cry like this, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it stop, made Spencer freeze in place, his arms grasping ever tighter around his godson’s body. “I’m so, so sorry, Henry.” 

As he picked up Henry, and Garcia held Michael, Spencer stared into nothingness. He knew where he was. He knew what had happened. But truly, nothing felt real.

                                                              —-

In the following days, Henry said nothing to anyone - anyone except Michael. He kept telling him Mommy and Daddy were gone but that he would never be alone because Henry would never leave him. While Emily and Rossi took care of the funeral arrangements, Spencer and Garcia took care of Henry and Michael. 

When the day of the funeral came, Henry never left Spencer’s side and Michael hung onto Garcia as if his life depended on it. The previous days had ripped all tears from their eyes; they were too tired to summon anymore, and instead stared blankly at their caskets as they were lowered into the ground. Henry blew them a kiss and said bye-bye before looking up at his Uncle. “Where do Michael and I go now?” He asked. “All of our grandparents are gone.” Even JJ’s mother had passed recently from a random heart attack. The boys didn’t have any blood relatives left.

“I don’t know,” Spencer said honestly. “But I promise I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

                                                             —-

Despite their young age, JJ and Will’s line of work taught them that nothing was a given, so they’d written out a will and updated it regularly. “The entirety of our estate is to be split equally between our sons, Henry and Michael LaMontagne,” the man read blankly from the paper. Rossi wanted to scream; this man was reading these words as if this wasn’t the most unfair thing in the world. “In the case of either one of our passing, the remaining parent will maintain custody of both of our children. However, in the event that both of us shall die in the same incident, custody of Henry and Michael LaMontagne will be transferred to their godfather, Spencer Walter Reid, effective immediately.”

Spencer’s head snapped up from the floor. After JJ’s mother had died, she asked if he would take care of the boys in the event that anything happened to them, but honestly he’d forgotten until this moment. “Does that mean we go home with you, Uncle Spencer?”

Life was different now. He had different priorities, and he had a lot to think about, but he wouldn’t let JJ down; Henry and Michael would always remember them as long as he was alive. He swallowed hard as he turned to his oldest godson. “Yes, Henry. You and Michael come home with me now.”

Later that night, when the boys were safe and sound in his apartment, he had a sobbing breakdown, tears staining the sheets and sticking to his skin. One of his best friends was gone and he was responsible for his godsons. 

                                                           —-

The next day, he did what he never thought he’d do, but then again, he never imagined a life in which is best friend was gone and he was thrust into immediate parenthood. Emily expected it. 

“I knew that’s what you’d do,” she said, reluctantly accepting his letter of resignation. “All of us are here to help with the boys whenever you need. I hope you know that.”

Spencer’s lip quivered as he realized how much he’d miss being at work every day, but with both parents gone, they needed to have some kind of consistency, and he’d been offered various teaching positions throughout his career, so he took George Washington University up their offer. It would allow him to teach classes in the morning, so that he could be home for the boys after school. “I know. They deserve to have someone home with them. After all this, it doesn’t seem fair for me to leave them with the nanny while I come here. I’m always on call if you need me from home though.”

Emily came out from behind her desk and wrapped her arms around her friend. “I’m sure we’ll be calling you, and I promise, I know that a lot is changing right now, but you will never lose any of us.”

If there was one thing Spencer could be sure of in this moment, it was the love of his team. This wasn’t going to be easy, but they would get through it because of that love.

                                                          —-

Three years later…

“Henry, it’s time to get up!” Spencer screamed from the living room. After gaining official custody of the boys, he bought a small house just a few minutes outside of town, about halfway between the Bureau and the University. As he spun around, hands covered in peanut butter from making lunch for the boys, he smiled softly at the picture of JJ and Will on the mantelpiece. There were pictures all around the house. Michael was already up and eating breakfast, but Henry, approaching his pre-teens at 12 years old, was getting harder to wake up in the mornings. “Henry! You have to go to school!”

Inside, he heard Henry kicking up and down on the bed. “I don’t wanna!”

“Michael, you stay here while I go check on your brother.” The five-year-old kicked happily at the table, eating his cereal without a care in the world. Unlike his brother, he’d been shielded from a lot of what happened with his parents. “Henry, what’s wrong?”

Henry pulled the covers over his head and whined. “I didn’t sleep well. I kept dreaming about Mom and Dad.”

Spencer’s heart dropped. Quickly, he checked through his phone. He could get away with taking the day off, and the boys had had near perfect attendance over the past three years. “How about you, me and your brother take a mental health day and stay home? I’ll let you sleep a little longer, and then we can go to the zoo or something today.”

“Can we get ice cream too?” He asked. He was getting older, but in these moments his voice still sounded so small. 

Spencer huffed. “Of course. What would a day off be without ice cream?” He kissed Henry on the forehead and then left him to sleep a little longer, returning to the kitchen where Michael was finished with his breakfast. “Michael, how would you like to take the day off from school today and go to the zoo with your brother and me?”

“Can we!?” He asked excitedly. 

“Just for today,” Spencer replied.

Michael clapped happily as Spencer called both boys in sick, but then he started to yawn. “Are you getting sleepy?” Spencer asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I thought about Mommy and Daddy last night and then I got sad and I couldn’t get to sleep.”

Picking him up off the floor, he hugged him tight. “How about I tell you a story and then we take a nap for a while before we go to the zoo?”

“Okay,” Michael yawned, leaning into his Uncle’s shoulder as he sat back down on the couch. “Once, there was a lovely and beautiful Queen named Jennifer and an equally brave and righteous King named William. Together, they had two princes named Henry and Michael, and as a family, they ruled the land justly and happily…”

Within minutes, the house was once again asleep under the watchful eyes of JJ and Will - they may have been gone, but they would certainly never be forgotten.

[doctors orders]

[WowWOwOwOWwowow ok guys, so that update amirite? I’m still dying over the fact that the fic I wrote was STRIKINGLY SIMILAR to what came out like, guys, hire me, we are clearly on the same page. I am so happy and in love. Anyway, this fic definitely follows the end of current Julian route, so there will be spoilers! Also I did not really feel the need to rate my last fic which was probably just a standard PG-13 affair, but things do heat up a lil bit here… so…. just to warn you….. no preview cuz… spoils.]

Rating: [the very top of] PG-13
Word Count: 1880

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Thank You

Word Count: 1780

Summary: You drag Steve and Bucky to your parents’ house for Thanksgiving.

Warnings: Language, suggestive food metaphors? Idk guys

A/N: I hope you all had a lovely day today. I adore each and every one of you.

Originally posted by enochianess

“Get up! Up, up, up!” you yelled, barging into Steve’s room. “Up, dressed, packed, and in the car in thirty minutes! Let’s go!”

“What’s going on,” he groaned, rolling out of bed and pushing his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“You and Bucky are coming with me to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving. Which reminds me, you need to wake him up. He threw a lamp at me last time; this one’s all you, Stevie.”

“We’re not going to intrude on your family time! It’s really okay. We’ll be fine here.”

“Look, everyone else made plans and split already, and whether you like it or not, you’re family now. And since you’re family, I get to boss you around. Get Bucky, get anything you need for an overnight stay, and get your ass in the car.”

You were back out the door by the time you finished, and Steve sighed and went to his closet for an overnight bag only to be interrupted when you popped your head back in.

“Wear the blue shirt. It looks nice on you.” You were gone again.

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Stay Stronger, Chapter 7.

Chapter 7.

Astrid glanced up when a soft knock tapped against the door. With a quick glance back to the still sleeping Hiccup, she rose from her seat and set Gothi’s book aside, trotting to the door to peak out and see who it was. If Gothi was letting them pass, it must be someone semi-close to Hiccup.

Tuffnut’s face popped in the crack of the doorway, face filled with curiosity. “How’s it going, Hoff?” He whispered lowly, eyes quickly glancing over the hut until they landed on Hiccup’s huddled shape. “He’s breathing!” He whispered loudly behind him.

“Well that’s a relief.” Snotlout’s voice scoffed.

“Come in, guys, just… be quiet, okay?” Astrid whispered, opening the door entirely. Stoick looked up, giving the young teens a smile from his dazing place on the other cot.

“Yo… chief, you laid up too?” Ruff asked quietly.

“Day off, Ruff… I’m just waiting for Hiccup to wake up.” Stoick explained, sitting up as he gestured slightly with his hand towards the bed against the opposite wall. Toothless crooned and warbled from the rafters, tail flicking down so they noticed him.

“How’s he doing?” Fishlegs asked in concern, while the others grabbed chairs and pulled them to sit back to the walls, facing the middle of the room.

“He woke up a few hours ago.” Astrid explained, resuming her seat by his bedside. “A lot of bruises and cuts, some broken bones and a concussion, but… Gothi says he should be alright.”

“Should be?” Snotlout shook his head, “Not ‘will be’?”

She glared, “Hiccup’s strong, I know he’ll make it. He was already cracking jokes- albeit tired ones- when he last woke up-”

“And he was flirting with Astrid.” Stoick chuckled, eyes twinkling. “He’ll be alright, he just needs time.”

Astrid flushed but nodded, biting her lip. “Though I wish he’d wake up without us having to practically drag him out of slumber. It has me worried…”

“Concussion’s do tend to make a person sleepier then normal.” Fishlegs pointed out. “It’s natural.”

“That’s what Gothi said too.” Astrid sighed, lifting a leg on her chair and wrapping her arms about it, chin resting on her knee. Her eyes fell upon Hiccup’s messy hair, all to be seen from under the covers. “He scares me, Thor darn it.”

“We know.” The others chorused.

“Young love.” Stoick teased. Astrid glared.

“I wish he’d wake up…” She sighed heavily, leaning back. “I want to hear his voice again.”

Snotlout rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, slumping in his chair, “You’re head over heals, Astrid. Love has made you a mushy mess.”

She jumped to her feet and grabbed the nearest object- her book- holding it threateningly over her head. “What did you say, Snotlout?”

He blinked and cowered further against the chair, eyes wide and mouth twitching. “Ah- eh… me? Did I say something?”

Astrid dropped back into her chair, tossing the book aside. “I’m not mushy, just caring, alright? Nothing wrong with that.”

“Except you keep expressing this "love”,“ Snotlout cocked his fingers for emphasis, "when we’re around. It’s gross, ew.” He made a face.

“I think it’s sweet.” Ruffnut squeaked.

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anonymous asked:

this is really random but i've always wanted an episode on the new moon where inuyasha just goes with kagome back to her time?? like?? he would be safe from naraku plus he would blend in better and he and kagome could do fun stuff in her time?? i want it!!! also i've always wanted an episode where kagome practices archery and upgrades her bow or something..

well anon…. this inspired me soo.. I hope this helps hold you over (~^o^)~ 

(i was going to do the kagome practicing archery too but i accidentally made this kinda long so i’ll most likely make it into a separate post!! if you want!!)


New Moon, Different Era

The new moon had arrived, which played specifically into Naraku’s own benefits. 

The rustling of leaves chased the gang as they made their escape out of the depths of the forest and back to near the bone-eater’s well. The darkness of the night crept behind them; slowly, but surely, stealing away any hope for light. Each of the member’s eyes widened as they became, nearly, submerged in the inadequate amounts of youkai that refused to back down unless they retrieved the jewel from the priestess. 

“Kagome-sama!” Miroku shouted as he whipped his staff back and forth, holding back the hundreds of youkai. “You must return to your home!” he slugged another few. “It is the only way you will be safe!”

Kagome plopped up her eyebrows, “I can’t do that!” She shot an arrow towards the growing number, “I can’t just leave you all in danger!” Her voice echoed and was carried off into the wind; she continued shooting her arrows, refusing to even consider the offer. 

“Kagome-chan!” Sango exclaimed from above. “It is you who they want!” Kirara circled her and Sango back around, “You need to be safe!” 

Sango and Kagome shared a look for a moment, but was forced to refocus their attention on the accuracy of the bow and hiraikotsu.

“Sango-chan…” the girl breathed for a second once the coast was, some-what, clear. 

She then took a look around and realized how hard Miroku, Sango, Kirara, Inuyasha, and even Shippo were fighting. The sounds of flesh and demonic screams continued to roll about into the atmosphere which made Kagome realize that it was she whom was putting everyone in danger.

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Princess (Rafael Casal x Reader)

Summary: Rafa. Disney. What more do you need?

TW: Mild swearing, mildly suggestive content

A/N: @megabooklover18 and @stardustandmoon have been a huge help in writing this (also they’re just incredible people)

Masterlist Mobile Masterlist

“Tell me,” you beg.

“Nope. But if it makes you feel better, we’re almost there,” Rafa responds.

For your five year anniversary, Rafa was taking you somewhere he knew you would love.

“Fine,” you grumble, leaning back with a sigh. You close your eyes as you relax into your seat. He somehow managed to keep the destination a secret from you, even on the flight. All you knew was that you were in Florida. You left incredibly early in the morning and were dying to know where he was taking you.

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Secret Lives (part 4)

Words: 3.1k

Summary: The Winchesters need your help on a case and you finally get to meet Castiel.

Warnings: Angst, language, very brief smut

A/N:Tag is list is at the end, let me know if you’d like to be added.

—————

It had been 2 years since Steve had gone missing and you threw yourself back into hunting. You had become reckless, but in a sense you had become a better hunter. Even if you got hurt, you wouldn’t let it stop you from getting your kill. You also no longer allowed yourself to be distracted by the idea of happiness. “Hunters don’t get a happy ending,” you’d tell yourself.

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Echo Pt.3

1st June 2019.

She heard voices speaking in hushed tones around her.

“She performed a spinal drain in the field, with just a frickin’ catheter,” one voice said.

“No way,” the other voice commented in awe.

And she had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder with a damaged forearm.”

“That’s hard core.” They didn’t sound like people she knew.

“Amelia?” Owen managed to mumble as a light shone in his eye.

“I’m right here,” he heard her say. Moments later she was in his line of vision, holding his hand, “Don’t try to move, there’s a catheter in your back.”

“What happened?” he asked, squinting as he tried to move, “Where am I?”

Nathan put an arm on his shoulder to keep him in one place. “Plane crash.”

“Am I okay?” he asked as tears came to his eyes, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want-“

“You’re not going to die,” Amelia angrily said as she combed a hand through his hair, praying to God that she could keep that promise.

She opened her eyes to find three doctors, in light green scrubs, hovering over her bed.

“Crap, she’s awake,” the first voice from before said, dashing out of her patient room. The others quickly followed him. Interns, she thought as she analysed her surroundings. This was not Grey Sloan, but it was a hospital. One of her hands was thoroughly bandaged, while the other was filled with needles pushing drugs into her.

“She should be waking up very soon, especially since everything went well,” a voice said.

“Thank you so much for taking care of them, Dr. Moreau,” she heard Derek say.

“Amelia?” Meredith called as she, Derek, and a doctor, entered her room, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she answered as if it was the most normal thing that she was pulling out her IV, “There’s morphine in this bag.”

The doctor looked at her in confusion. “It’s for the pain…”

“She has a drug addiction,” Derek explained to the surgeon. With her bandaged hand, she was struggling to rip the IV out, so Derek walked over to the IV line and stopped the drip. “You’re going to be begging for this medication very soon once you feel that pain.”

“I think I’ll live,” she answered curtly, “Where am I?”

“We are in a hospital in Maryland,” Meredith responded, “The chief is organising to have you all transferred to Grey Sloan in a couple of hours.”

“Where is everyone?” Amelia continued, “Where is Owen?”

“Alex, Jo, Nathan and Maggie are okay,” Derek told her, “In total it’s just broken ribs, dislocated joints, some internal bleeding. But they’re all mostly okay.”

“Derek, where is Owen?” Amelia repeated herself, knowing he was ignoring that part of the question.

“Cross is temporarily paralysed until they do a surgery to restore blood flow; Edwards had a brain bleed that they evacuated. Oh, Maggie has some really bad PTSD…” he rambled on.

Looking to Meredith now, whom had remained grimly silent for the whole conversation, Amelia asked, “Mer, where is Owen?”

The general surgeon hesitantly looked at her husband, then the surgeon, before looking back at Amelia. “He’s…in the room next to yours.”

“Is he okay?” she asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, “Can I see him?” Everyone looked at her, no one wanting to talk. She noticed these sombre expressions on their faces and knew immediately what was wrong. “He’s in a coma or something, isn’t he?” Their looks of pity were all she needed to know that everything she’d done to try to save him was all in vain.

“I should have never done that lumbar puncture,” she berated herself, feeling a dull pressure in her arm, “I should have never given him that stupid IV.” Meredith watched as her vitals became slowly elevated on the monitor.

“Amy, that is not true,” Derek said, “You practically saved Owen’s life with your quick thinking. No one else would’ve imagined doing a lumbar puncture in the field, or creating a hypertonic saline bag out of salt and saline, not even I.” When she didn’t acknowledge his words, he added, “There are news reporters, and chiefs of surgery from hospitals all over the country, who are dying to interview you. You and I both know if you hadn’t done what you did, Owen would be brain dead right now.”

“He’s in a coma, Derek!” she shouted, feeling her heart racing in her chest, “That is almost the same thing!” Her monitor began beeping, displaying concerning vitals as she hyperventilated.

“Okay, you two need to leave,” Dr. Moreau insisted as he called a nurse, “And she needs to go back on that pain medication.”

“No,” Amelia enforced through her panic attack and the pain in her hand, “Tell them, Derek. Please.” There were tears in her eyes now. “Just let me see him.” It killed him to see her like this.

He and Meredith were kindly let out of the room as nurses entered to control the situation. It was a mess of screaming and fighting and restraining between Amelia and the nurses. At one point, Derek had to look away; he couldn’t handle to see her like this. It reminded him of when she’d OD’d. He would never be able to forget the look of pure fear and desperation on her face as a young, 16 year old Amelia begged and cried for him to make them stop what they were doing; to make them stop hurting her. He was seeing that little girl now, as they restrained her and injected a sedative into her IV. It brought tears to his eyes. He hated himself for not being able to do what she needed.

5 months ago.

Owen ran his hand along her side, under the cover. “It’s impossible that everyone’s been this quiet for so long. I can’t believe it.”

“Shh, don’t jinx it,” Amelia whispered to him as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, looping her leg around his waist, “Who knows when next this’ll happen.”

Owen chuckled in agreement. “So…should we go again?”

There was silence on her end before she sighed loudly and stretched. “I don’t see why not.” He laughed at her feigned indifference as she brought her lips to his.

Just then, they heard Ryan’s muffled voice. “Mom, two people are at the door!”

Amelia groaned in frustration while Owen said, “I’ll get it.” He slipped out of their shared bed.

“No, ignore it,” she told him, pulling on his hand to bring him back.

“Ten minutes and then we’ll finish this, okay?” he promised her. Begrudgingly, she agreed.

About 8 minutes later, Ryan came up to Amelia’s bedroom, knocking first. “Mom?”

“Come in,” she said, throwing on Owen’s shirt.

Ryan opened the door, looking concerned. “Owen’s been staring at the door for a really long time.”

Amelia furrowed her eyebrows. Wasn’t someone supposed to be at the door? “Did he open the door?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, who was at the door, Ry?” she inquired further.

Ryan shifted his weight from side to side. “A girl and a boy in green clothes.”

“A girl and a boy in green clothes?” Amelia repeated.

“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed, “They had a bunch of medals on their shirts and they were wearing weird hats, too.” It was only then that it clicked. The army had visited Owen.

“Owen?” Amelia called as she ventured downstairs. Ryan remained at the top of the stairs, staring through the bars at the interaction. Like Ryan had said, the trauma surgeon was staring at the front door, motionless. “Owen,” she tried again, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

He turned around to face her, his eyes red with tears. “She’s alive, Amelia. They found her.”

She was at a loss for words. Instead, she pulled him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as she caressed his hair. “It’s okay,” she told him as he broke down in her arms, “Everything will be fine.”

His legs buckled as he fell on his knees, overtaken by grief and guilt. “I stopped looking for her and she’s alive.” She dutifully followed him to the ground, never letting him go. It was one of many, many breakdowns he’d have in the coming months, breakdowns that’d eventually tear their marriage apart; if only they knew.

3rd June 2019.

She finally opened her eyes to familiar surroundings. Without even asking, she knew she was back in Grey Sloan. There was a cup of jello and a metal spoon on a table next to her, but when she reached for it, something held her hand back.

“Welcome back to Seattle,” she heard Derek say. Looking to her right she saw him lounging on the patient room’s sofa.

“Really?” she asked as she lifted her handcuffed arm.

“You had a psychotic break in Maryland,” Derek justified.

“I didn’t have a psychotic break,” she dismissed, “I was simply in pain and worried about my husband.”

“And what did you expect from acting like that?” he countered, “To be treated as if everything was okay? They had to sedate you, Amelia. A lot.” He laughed to himself. “You just wouldn’t go down.”

She began giggling too. “I remember, I was there.”

“You’ve been asleep for over 24 hours because of it,” he said, settling into a soft chuckle.

Amelia shook her head and smiled. “Whatever. I’m not a psycho.”

“Okay, psycho,” Derek teased, making her roll her eyes, “Owen is awake, by the way, so you didn’t kill him, like I told you.”

“He is?” she confirmed, her heart fluttering at the news.

“Well, he’s usually not awake for long,” he explained, “And he doesn’t talk much, just mostly asks for jello and water. Maybe you can get him to talk a little more.”

“Can I see him?” she inquired.

Derek smiled. “Yes you can see him, but only if you promise not to carve my eye out with that spoon.” Amelia rolled her eyes.

“Are you sure you should’ve given her his medical chart?” Meredith asked Derek.

“Definitely,” he answered, “If she’s anything like me, which she is, she’ll need to know exactly what’s been happening, in detail. For her peace of mind.”

Amelia looked through the chart, reading the various notes recorded, from their initial hospital visit, to when they were all moved to Seattle. They’d noted everything she’d done to him in the crash, even. Thinking back on it was hard for her to do; it brought her so much anxiety knowing things could’ve gone so much worse.

“Why are you looking at my medical chart?” she heard Owen say. Looking up, she was met with his crystal blue gaze and confused expression, his head snugly wrapped in gauze.

Amelia smiled, relieved to see his eyes again. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“A patient shouldn’t be looking at my medical chart,” he quipped, eyeing her apparel and the IV bag that was next to her on a stand.

“Very funny, Owen,” she said, “But, how are you feeling? Any pain or pressure?”

“Hey, you’re awake again,” Derek said as he and Meredith entered the room, “How are you feeling this time around?”

“So we have patients running around pretending to be doctors now?” Owen asked, referring to Amelia, “Why is she in my room reading my chart?” Amelia sat there in confusion, wondering why he was being so hostile.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, pulling out his penlight. “Owen, what year is it?” he asked as he shone the light in both his eyes.

Owen remained silent for a long moment. “Uh, I-I’m…”

“Okay, what is the last thing you remember,” Meredith tried now, hoping to jog his memory.

Owen thought long and hard for a couple minutes before answering. “I think I was having lunch with you and Derek. Uh…you were mad at him because…” He got quiet again as he thought. “He was trying to convince me to drive his sister from LA.” He brought a hand to his temple. “I…I can’t remember exactly what her name was.” Owen looked back to the woman staring at him, with his medical chart in her hands, before looking at Derek again. “I don’t want to be rude, but can you make her leave? I don’t really know who she is and she’s making me uncomfortable.” Derek looked at Meredith and they both looked at Amelia, who was staring mindlessly at the closed chart in front of her. They couldn’t read her expression, but they were almost certain it was either one of shock or grief, or both.

“Owen,” Derek said slowly, “My sister’s name was Amelia…”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “Okay…”

Pointing to Amelia, Derek said, “This is Amelia.”

Owen raised both his eyebrows now. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“Amelia is your wife, Owen,” Derek finished, unsure of how the information would affect him. Amelia looked up at Owen, hoping to see some sort of glimmer of realisation in his eyes. Instead, his facial expression became even more confused, irritated even.

“Is this a joke?” the trauma surgeon asked, “Because it’s not funny.” Looking at Amelia, he said, “Get her out of my room. Now.” When no one made any movements, he became more vocal. “Did you hear me?” He looked directly at Amelia. “Get out!

In Dreams - A Stiles Stilinski Imagine

(A/N) Hey guys! SO, this is a little earlier than I intended (though it’s not like I can claim a regular posting schedule with only three works uploaded, look at me pretending to be all important and shit 🙄), but I got it finished earlier than anticipated and it turns out I don’t like sitting on it of it’s ready? Therefore I am electing it to just share it now! Also, I know i’ve offered no evidence to the contrary but I don’t exclusively write for Stiles, I just happened to have written for him first. 

I was listening to In Dreams by Roy Orbison when I came up with this imagine. You guys know how it is, you’re listening to music and suddenly become the director of a music video in your head. Fortunately (or unfortunately maybe???) I am Teen Wolf trash so I obviously had to force it into that universe. I tried this fake iMessage creator thing I found on google, not sure I totally dig it but suits its purpose I guess? I’m really just experimenting with extra elements so bear with me my friends. I hope y’all enjoy! 

Words: 959

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: N/A


     If you’re being honest, you can’t really even remember what it was that you fought over. But you know that it was something stupid, some huge escalation over something mundane that would have normally been talked through. Your situation is anything but normal though. Unfortunately, you finally learned what the phrase “the straw that broke the camel’s back” really meant.

    You and Stiles had alway tackled the supernatural occurrences the pack faced as a united front, the little human couple who always prevailed and whose resilience was admired by even the baddies that stumbled into Beacon Hills. You never showed the strain it put on you two to your friends, probably because neither of you noticed it yourselves. Not until it was too late anyway.

    Passive aggressive comments turned into bitter, scathing remarks which turned into stony silences before one of you broke and pretended that it never happened. Rewind. Repeat. A fight between those who care for each other is an ugly thing in itself, a fight between two that can’t even admit to themselves that there’s a problem is worse.

    The thing that bugs you most is that you can’t remember what it was, the thing that caused a screaming match in your living room on the one night that you had taken for yourselves away from the pack. You feel that if you could just remember what it was then maybe you can rationalize the misery you’re both in, maybe one of you was right and the other wrong. You know that’s not the case deep down though, neither of you could take the pressure placed upon your shoulders and instead had taken it out on one another. That night was the night when Stiles decided he had enough of the death spin your relationship had fallen into. What you can remember is the silence that followed the slam of your front door, how empty it felt, how empty you felt.  

    That was four weeks ago. Four weeks since you had been able to look each other in the eye. Four weeks since either of you could be in the same room. The pack caught on fairly quickly this time, and you both found yourselves bombarded by a group of shifters and a banshee that turned into would-be therapists.

Week one was filled with frustration and anger and dodging your friends, why couldn’t they just leave it alone? “Because,” Scott said ignoring the harsh slam of your locker, “if you two can’t make it, what hope is there for the rest of us?” You just smiled sadly, deflated for the moment, and allowed him to wrap his arm around your shoulder on the way to class.

Week two and three was several pack members dropping by “to hang out” or “to take you to Deaton’s to grab something”. It all felt more and more like supernaturals anonymous meetings by the day. It helped though, actually sitting down and letting out the fear and worry that being in this world entails. For once not being the rock that never moves, or the buoy that holds the others up from the dark deep. It was a hard lesson to learn that you both had been acting the least human out of everyone. Human didn’t inherently mean weak, so you didn’t need to always try to be so strong.

Week four was filled with a lot of self reflection, realizing that the pack had given you the tools to sort yourself out but you had to in turn continue the process. It was also filled with everyone cajoling you both into reaching out to each other, to remove the flashes of melancholy or blank stares that faded into sad smiles that had overtaken you both.

    That brings you to the beginning of week five. Laying in your bed after waking from a dream, tears slowly trailing down the sides of your face. A common occurrence as of late, but you can’t help it, not when your dreams are so lovely that your reality pales in comparison. This time you were in the jeep, parked in the reserve with a bag of curly fries resting on the seat next to you. The car is off and the windows are down, a breeze sends a chilled stream of earthy, pine scented air through the interior and you tug the red flannel a little tighter around your shoulders. And he’s there, gesturing wildly with his hands, his ball cap turned around backwards on his head and a curly fry hanging precariously from his mouth as he regales you with one tale or another. He takes a breath and shoves the fry in his mouth, turning his head toward you with a goofy smile on his face as he chews, waiting on your response. You grin and go to open your mouth- And then you’re awake, and he’s gone and you’re alone once again. It’s sometime after 3 in the morning and you know you’ll be tired at school the following monday but you decide that you’d rather lay awake than fall back into another dream that you’ll agonize over later, no, one was enough thank you very much. With a heavy sigh you pull yourself out of bed and pad into the kitchen to get a glass of water, when you return to your room you find the space filled with the soft glow of your phone…

     Neither of you showed up at school the next day. Rather you both spent the early morning talking, finally talking, on the cliff over-looking the town. When the pack came searching after school they found you both sound asleep in the front seat of the jeep with contented smiles on both of your faces and let out a collective sight of relief, worst five weeks ever

Lumen (part 2/ ): Honest intentions

Originally posted by shhhh-no-ones-home

MASTERLIST

Read up here - Part 1: Good intentions

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary of part 2: Steve and Bucky orchestrate your escape from the asylum.

Warnings: one swear word.

Word count: 1.747 (without background information).

A/N: This is my first fan fic series, so bear with me. Feel free to tell me your thoughts on this one, constructive criticism is appreciated!

Background: Iona Cole is a perky, gifted and ambitious assistant to a critically acclaimed professor at a renowned university. That is, until she snaps in the middle of class, the auditorium packed with students on introduction day. Having a long family history of psychiatric diseases, her mother sends her to a private clinic to receive the best treatment. In reality, this institute for people with “special needs” is a smokescreen for the underground operation Hydra is running there.

Originally posted by damn-daughter-of-anarchy

ONE YEAR AGO

The room was dimly lit, the late afternoon shadow falling gracefully over your face, softening your features and darkening your hair just a little. You sat on your bed, a hospital bed with crisp white sheets that smelt like disinfectant. No decorations and no personal items were allowed and it was as if a certain gloomy sadness constantly hovered over your room.

You took solace in the book a kind nurse had brought you earlier today. Her perfume reminded you of freshly mowed grass and her eyes had been a lovely shade of chocolate brown. But their beauty had been overshadowed by the one emotion you despised the most: pity.

She took pity on you, the star student with straight A’s and every professor’s favourite research assistant. You, the brilliant student who was now stuck in a psychiatric facility awaiting your final judgement as it were. Oh, how bitter did the sweet irony taste on your tongue.

You were completely overtaken by your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the soft knock on your door nor the crack it made upon opening. When you lifted your head to see who had entered, your eyes fell upon stormy blue ones. They were an exceptional kind of blue, pale and vivid, white rays around the iris reminding you of electricity.  Dark brown hair brushed his shoulders ever so slightly, gently framing his razor sharp jawline, a physical trait you had always appreciated in men. He was ruggedly handsome and that was obviously an understatement.

But there had been another man present in your room as well. You averted your gaze from the attractive guest and your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the second stranger that had come to pay you a visit. Blond hair, muscular body and eyes resembling the clear tropical seas of the Pacific. He was extremely handsome and that was obviously an understatement.

Besides, he wasn’t just anybody, he was Captain America.

It then slowly dawned on you who the first good-looking man had been. Although you hadn’t immediately recognised him, that metal arm pretty much gave him away. James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, his name merely a whisper on your lips as your brain was working overtime trying to evaluate the situation. You turned your head towards Bucky once again, your analytical gaze piercing, almost demanding him to return it. He had a peculiar energy around him, his body always on high alert and his mind never quite at ease.

“Pleasure to meet you both,” you said whilst extending your hand, your eyes never leaving Bucky’s.

“I’m Iona, but I prefer to go by Io. I’m a sucker for Greek mythology.”

You tried to stand up from your bed as elegantly as possible but failing miserably when you almost tripped over your own feet. You had neglected to notice how the bed sheets had slowly fallen onto the ground when you had switched positions to get a better view of your two guests. They had tangled themselves around your feet, causing you to loose balance.

In an attempt to break your fall, you stretched out both hands and prepared for the worst. But you did not hit the cold floor, instead you thumped into another fairly hard yet strangely comfortable surface. You repeatedly thanked your lucky stars for not making a complete fool out of yourself before your realised what – or rather, who had caught you.

Both your hands rested against Bucky’s chest and as you slowly looked upward to meet his gaze, you felt his muscles tense under the touch of your fingertips brushing against his pectorals. You started blushing uncontrollably, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, thinking you were rather adorable in your attempt to keep a straight face.

After putting you back on your feet, he carefully tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with his flesh hand. You were a tomato by the time you were able to steady yourself again. The skin on skin contact had you beaming with energy, almost bursting at the seams by the way it swirled deep within you. The lights in the room started to flicker slightly, a warm breeze roaming through the room.

“Sorry about that, I’m clumsy as fuck.” Your right hand covered your mouth once you realised what you’d just said. Was it appropriate or even remotely acceptable to cuss around America’s golden boy and his sexy sidekick? Or should you start apologising profusely at once?

“I am tremendously sorry, Captain. I understand this must come across as very un-British of me,” you rambled nervously. But when you were only met with an amusing smile on Bucky’s end, it seemed like the Captain himself hadn’t paid much attention to it so you quickly dropped the subject.

“We’re out of time. We have to go, now!” Steve said while looking down at his watch, cringing as he saw the time. The Quinjet was set for departure any minute now so there was no time to waste. He prayed nobody had alerted the hospital staff, which proved to be idle hope when he heard distressed voices approaching from across the hallway.

“If you would just be so kind to take this rarity off for me, we’ll be out of here faster than you can say babbling, bumbling band of baboons.” You gestured towards the bracelet you had been given upon arrival. It was made of the finest materials, or so they had claimed, and they had listed a few for you but you hadn’t really bothered listening. Your name was engraved upon it in tiny, sharp letters, like a name tag of sorts.

Both men shared a bewildered look and you quickly understood they didn’t quite catch your reference. “Never mind that,” you shrugged, a little disappointed.

“This thing is designed to prevent me from working my magic. Remove it and we’re good to go,” you explained calmly, holding up your arm as to illustrate your point.

Steve started examining the combination lock on this unfortunate choice of accessory, sighing in frustration as he saw it required a thumbprint to confirm the 5-digit combination. But Bucky took one quick look at the armlet and decided that the best approach was to simply break it off with his metal arm rather than to figure out how to crack the code.

His flesh hand hastily took your elbow whilst his metal one carefully ripped the device off of your wrist. The material bent easily under the pressure applied by his metal fingers and you marvelled at how seamlessly the material blended together in that singular motion. It wasn’t until Steve coughed loudly that you were torn away from your little moment of admiration.

“It seems you’ll be able to work your magic now, ma’am,” Steve said, unsure of what your magic exactly was. His question was quickly answered when with one snap of your fingers all the lights in the room went out and a tiny orb appeared in your left hand. When you caught the two Avengers staring at the source of light soaring around your fingers, moving from one hand to the other, you figured you at least owed them an explanation.

“I can manipulate and control any type of energy, whether it’d be fire, light, electric current or human energy, although I’m still working on fire.”

You closed your eyes as all of a sudden you felt three bursts of energy outside your door – the energy of three armed men. One was the nervous type, suffering from acute anxiety and you reckoned this must probably be his first encounter with a foreign enemy. The second one had a cold and calculating vigour about him, a cruel man that revelled in the pain he inflicted upon others. The third one was considerably younger than his colleagues and seemed to have the vivacity of a toddler in a playground. He was just aching to barge down the door and shoot every living being that crossed his path.

You opened your eyes as the newfound knowledge found its way to your lips. “There are three of them at the other side of that door. Now, I can only take on one of those men. So when they decide to enter, mister America here shall take on the anxious soldier. As for you, sergeant Barnes, you will take on the trigger-happy fighter. You’ll immediately know who’s who, trust me.”

Steve gave you a questionable look and wanted to ask how exactly you were going to defend yourself with a light bulb as a weapon. Yet there was no time for questions and so he decided against it.

Bucky, too, didn’t like it very much that you were handing out orders when there was no proof whatsoever that a girl like yourself could eliminate a trained soldier without even blinking an eye. But then he remembered what Fury had told him a couple of hours ago. He was here to help you, defend you and protect you no matter what. And he did not take this request lightly, so he remained silent as well.

Only a moment later, the three men kicked in the door that led to your hospital room. You snapped your fingers again and the light returned to its rightful place and with a second snap, you rapidly broke every single bone in the body of the soldier you had assigned to yourself. Wincing at the sound of his shoulders popping, you watched as his knees gave way and his fingers bent at an awkward angle. Never had you enjoyed this side of your powers and you knew you never would.

On your left, Bucky had taken down the youngest soldier. Disarming him went fairly easy and within a few seconds he was down and out on the floor, Bucky having held him in chokehold long enough for him to pass out cold.

On your right, Steve had taken advantage of the man’s inexperience and had knocked him to the floor with his shield. All in all, it had proven to be an easy fight but you knew more men were on their way. You silently hoped the Avengers had come to you with one hell of an escape plan.


Part 3: Dark intentions


Tagging: @beccaanne814-blog @gloriavox @iwillbeinmynest @38leticia @shamvictoria11@buckyhawk @hymnofthevalkyries – since this is an ongoing series, the tag list is open as we speak. Adding: @marvel-lucy

I Do (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) (Request)

Originally posted by iredknight

Anonymous:  Can you write something with Ramsay Bolton?! Like you have to marry him because Roose and your father are close friends but you don’t like him and he doesen’t like you either but at the end both of you fall in love. And happy wedding

Word Count:1453

Keep reading

Hey There Soldier

Originally posted by emearudetoubia

Requested: Nope, but more requests are coming soon!

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Drunk!Reader, fluff

Word Count: 1,388

A/N: Sorry for the delay, we had a string of family emergencies pop up, but everything is fine. Also, we hit 1,000 followers while I was gone!!! Thank you all so much, I honestly can’t believe it. I am so grateful for each and every one of you.Anyways, enjoys, and feel free to send ny requests that you have my way…

It was strange. For never having met him before, you would honestly trust Bucky Barnes with your life. It happened pretty suddenly, because before you were in love with him, you could have sworn that you felt nothing at all.

Regardless of how you felt, you knew that he was in no place to be in a relationship. He had barely figured out who he was, just as Bucky. There was no way that he was ready to trust someone and be able to open up to them enough that they could have a healthy relationship, at least right now.

However, try telling that to yourself after four shots of vodka. At first, Natasha had claimed that you just needed to loosen up, handing you the whipped cream flavored devil. It wasn’t half bad, which of course made getting the second shot into you just a bit easier. After that, all bets were off… what could you say? You were a light weight.

After having successfully lowered any inhibitions that you previously had, Natasha dumped you on top of your favorite super soldier, with no more than a wink in his direction before sauntering off back into the crowd. You snuggled into the couch, allowing yourself a small smile at how soft it felt underneath you.

Luckily, Bucky wasn’t in a very populated area of the party, preferring to be somewhat alone in the social setting that Tony insisted he be a part of, because when you got drunk, you got very cuddly. You thought nothing of kicking off your shoes and curling into Bucky’s side, too tipsy to notice the slight pink tinge that had overtaken most of his face.

“Hey there, soldier,” you slurred after attempting to give him a sultry wink. It hadn’t worked in your favor, but Bucky though that your blink was charming nonetheless.

“Hi, Y/N.” he said quietly, attempting to shift you off of him without making it too obvious what was going on.

Unfortunately, even in your drunken state, your senses were in hyper drive, and instead of letting him gently set you down on the couch, you tightened your hands around Bucky’s neck, holding on even tighter.

You let out a loud groan in protest, not wanting to leave Bucky’s arms. You felt like you were at home when you were with him, even without four shots of vodka coursing through your system. He glanced around the room, hoping that no one had heard you. He held back a groan as he saw Sam making his way over to the two of you, a very familiar smirk on his lips.

“Hello lovebirds!” he announced loudly, sitting on the end of the couch that the two of you were situated on.

“What do you want?” Bucky grunted, relaxing into the couch, attempting to play it cool while also, finally shifting you off of his arm.

“Just checking up on my favorite person in the whole world,” he laughed, at his own joke and the situation that Bucky was currently stuck in.

“Alright,” Bucky said, pushing himself off of the couch. “That’s enough. Come on, Y/N, time for bed.”

At first, he just stood you up and wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you out of the party. You were still very drunk, and weren’t being all the cooperative whilst being taken from the room. Tony and Sam were wolf whistling all the two of yu until you finally got in the elevator.

Eventually, Bucky got tired of trying to lead what felt like a stray goose around the halls, and scooped you up into his arms. He wished that he could say that he was surprised when you looped your arms around his neck and cuddled into his chest, but he simply sighed and accepted it.

Bucky only wished that you would love him this much when you were sober. He had liked you since the first day at the tower. He liked you so quickly and fiercely that it scared him. After that, he couldn’t muster words around you. he could spill his guts to Steve when he asked about you, but he couldn’t bring himself to say more than a few words to you.

After he got to your room, he quickly realized that it was locked, and you were in no state to unlock the door. In fact, you had fallen asleep against his chest. He didn’t want to wake you, so he settled for readjusting his grip on your thighs and quickly shuffling to his room.

He laid you down in his bed, attempting to make you as comfortable as possible in your sequined party dress. He quickly grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the bathroom cabinet and a glass of water to set on your bedside table. He stood over you, taking in the sight of your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, younger than usual.

You normally had lines of worry or concentration etched on your face, but in your sleep they all faded away. Before he could really process what he was doing, he stooped down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. He was nervous, unsure if that would be enough to wake you. thankfully, you only shifted in your sleep, rolling to the other side while a small smile took up residence on your face.

You rolled onto your side, pulling the blankets closer to your aching body. You didn’t know what had happened last night, but you knew that it probably included a lot of alcohol. You vaguely remembered Natasha coercing you to drink with her, and you had a strange feeling that you did something that you were going to regret.

You opened your eyes, letting in the first glimpse of light. It was nearly too much to handle. You noticed that someone had left you some medicine on… not your beside table.

You sat up abruptly, causing a huge head rush that made you pretty dizzy. You held your head in your hands as you glanced around the room. It wasn’t yours, but you weren’t sure exactly where you were. The room was plain, it looked like every other guest room in the tower, maybe a bit bigger. There were no personal belongings in the room save for some clothes in the closet.

You quickly gulped down the medicine before making your way out of the bed. You opened the door to find a living room that looked similar to yours. Okay, not a guest bedroom.

You rounded the corner to see Bucky at the stove, cooking. You were in Bucky’s room? How did you get there? Oh god, did he bring you here?

“You’re awake.” Bucky said, holding two plates of a full breakfast, eggs, toast, pancakes, the works.

“What happened?” you asked, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Did we…”

“Oh, god no.” he chuckled, setting the plates down.

‘What did he mean, ‘oh god no, was that so appalling?’

Bucky must have noticed that you were worried, because he immediately started to stutter. “Not that um, that I wouldn’t, um. I mean, you’re very beautiful.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I wanted to tell you that I have thought that, for a really long time, and”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Bucky, the man that you had felt things for since you met him liked you, maybe even loved you? it didn’t seem like it could be real. All at once, a flood of emotions washed over you, and you just couldn’t help yourself.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. You both let all of your emotions finally do the talking. You poured everything that you had been feeling for so long into the simple act of placing your lips on his.

You didn’t know how long it had been when the two of you finally pulled away,  but when you did, your breakfast had gone cold. The two of you simply laughed it off, choosing to have cereal instead. You spent the day cuddled up on the couch, talking. You couldn’t say that you had ever been happier, and if the look in Bucky’s eyes was anything to go by, he felt exactly the same.