if this already exists let me know

My Moon, you’re too busy admiring the sun to notice how beautifully you glow.

I have yet to draw these two being intimate so I fixed that

I hope you guys don’t mind if I just tag this ship ShuYuu? No one seems to know what it is (but let me know if there is an existing tag already LOL)

Play With Me, Alpha

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Derek x Fem!Reader

Summery: Derek’s newest beta keeps causing trouble, so one afternoon he gives her a punishment.

Warnings: 18+gif undercut, sex, Alpha!kink


It was no secret that Derek had a soft spot for you, it was why you got away with so much. As soon as he’d turned you, you wrapped yourself around his protective instinct, making it easy to get what you wanted.

It started innocently, freshly turned, thunderstorm firing overhead, you’d hung onto Derek like a koala bear. But then it stuck, if you needed comfort you’d seek out Derek, who convinced himself it was better him that Scott or one of the betas. Then Stiles pointed out all the other things, batting eyes, pouting, the fake bad moods until you delightedly got Derek to give in.

Which was how the “detox war” started. Unfortunately for your alpha, his instincts screamed that pushing you away would mean pushing you out of the pack. Completely unaware that it was having the opposite effect.

Keep reading

Queen in the North {Pt. 2}

Originally posted by ladysarah94

Requested: By myself, because I am Trash™. Also some other absolutely lovely people.

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1}

Summary: Y/N was sent to live with The Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, she seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than she had ever noticed.

Warnings: I just watched the episode so fluff to the max

Word Count: 2,433

A/N: I am so pleased to see how many of you like the first part to this, and I sincerely hope that the second part is even better! Special shoutout to @secretschuylersister for looking over this/encouraging me to actually post it. If you have any requests, please feel free to send them to my ask box!

It was nice of Sansa to say that she was almost done poking and prodding and adjusting your dress, even if you all knew that it was a lie. Sansa had and affinity for dressing you up, claiming that if she tried it with Arya, she would lose a finger. You couldn’t say that the idea was entirely off base.

The dress was lovely. It looked a bit delicate in comparison to the usual style that ladies favored in Winterfell.  It was somehow different and you’re the same as the dresses that you favored on an everyday basis. Although you had lived in Winterfell for most of your life, your mother and father had lived much farther south.

So, you tended to favor lighter dresses, made of silk and lace in a wide array of colors. Jon liked to tease you that you were the brightest thing to ever live in Winterfell. What you didn’t know is how much Robb silently agreed with him. The dress was white, with layers of gray peeking through towards the bottom. It was lovely, although you had no idea how Sansa had managed such a lovely effect in the short amount of time since she had asked you about making a dress.

“I may have been working on it for a little while before I asked if it was okay,” she said, picking it up off of the bed and motioning for you to change into it. “But I knew that you were going to say yes anyways.”

You laughed, she was right. You had a hard time telling people no, especially when they were doing something so nice for you. After all, the Starks were your family. And if they were willing to put the time in to help you, then there was no way that you were going to refuse. It did make your schedule feel a bit cramped at times, in between dagger lessons with Arya and the boys, knitting with Sansa and tea with Lady Stark, who was forever insisting that you call her Catelyn, there were never enough hours in the day, something you often fought about with Robb.

“Well then, put it on!” Sansa laughed, tossing you the dress and pulling out her needle and thread, claiming that there were a few alterations that needed to be made. Sansa worked in silence, adding a few stitches here and there. And somehow, when she was done, the dress looked even more spectacular. She had managed to somehow make it fit you like a glove at the top, yet have the perfect amount of sway and flow in the skirts.

“Thank you, Sansa,” you said, admiring the skirts in her mirror. If you hadn’t been so caught up in how nice it was for Sansa to make you this lovely dress, you might have noticed the smug look on her face as she admired you admiring her dress. And you might have noticed that you were wearing in the Stark family’s colors. “But I really think that I should go see if your mother needs help preparing-”

“I was downstairs with her all morning. While you were fretting over nothing, I was making sure that you didn’t have an excuse to run away.” She laughed, guiding you over to the chair that was set up in front of her mirror. “Now, you have to stay and let me do something with this.” She sighed, motioning to the braid that you wore every day. Sansa took your braid in her hands, making quick work of fanning it out across your shoulders, running a brush gently through the ends or your hair.

“I cannot understand why you never take the time to style your hair unless I force you to. You know that anyone would do anything for you.” Sansa rain her hands through your hair, twisting it one way and then another, attempting to choose a style for that evening.

“I would rather spend my time with other engagements. And I’m sure that every single person in this castle has at least five things that they need to be doing at any given time. And shockingly, none of them include helping me with my hair.” You laughed, raising an eyebrow at her in the mirror.

“And does one of those things include pretending that you aren’t in love with my brother? Or is that simply a given, considering it is something that you do every waking minute of every day?”

You felt yourself tense, your shoulders locking back into place and your teeth grinding against each other. Sansa, on the other hand, continued brushing your hair into place, humming a soft tune to herself. You wished that you had an appropriate comeback, but you were left to sit there, mouth agape, while Sansa fussed with your hair for longer than should have been possible.

You’d hoped that you would have a bit of time to yourself before the feast that evening, but Sansa had insisted that a bit of rouge had never hurt anyone. By the time that she decided you were ready, the both of you were late.

“A queen never arrives at her own party on time.” Sansa laughed as you hurried down the hall. You hated to be late, and it seemed that the only time you were more than a few seconds late to anything was when Sansa insisted on helping you get ready.

“Then it’s really too bad that I am not a queen.” you reminded her, withholding a glare.

She snorted at you in a very un Sansa-like way, simply brushing past you and breezing easily into the banquet. You, on the other hand, were not nearly as confident. You took a moment to steady yourself, a moment to catch your breath, before stepping into the banquet hall.

The noise and liveliness of the hall erupted around you, pulling you in. You glanced around, taking in the musicians and the dancers that took up most of the space in the large banquet hall. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were elated to see Robb standing with Jon and Theon near the edge of the dance floor.

You gathered up your expansive skirts, making your way along the edge of the room to the boys.

“Well don’t you just look dashing in the Stark colors?” Jon teased you, gesturing for you to do a twirl.

You landed a punch on his arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but firm enough to tell him to shut his big mouth, paired with an expression that told him you were going to pretend to be cross with him for a while. “If you must know, your lovely sister made me this gown, and as usual I had no say about the colors. But, I’m sure that it is just coincidence.” You attempted to sound sincere, even though you knew what Sansa was most likely thinking when she was picking out the material.

You pretended to listen to the boys ramble on about one thing or another, but your eyes were scanning the room in search of Arya. You knew that she was not particularly fond of feasts, so you always made a point to seek her out and reassure her, even if it was only for a few minutes. After few moments of searching, you spotted her, slumped into a chair, looking like she would much rather be anywhere else but here.

You felt Robb’s hand rest on the small of your back, attempting to draw your attention away from the very important matter at hand. “Y/N, do you want to-”

“Maybe in a minute, Robb,” you said, already making your way over to Arya, not even bothering to look back towards the sound of Jon’s booming laughter.

“Arya!” you laughed, taking her hands in your own and pulling her out of the chair. “Won’t you come and dance with me?”

“You know that I have been skipping my lessons,” she mumbled, refusing to meet your eyes. Somehow, she was in a worse mood than usual.

“I never said that we were going to make our way through the most boring waltz in existence.” You were already halfway to the band, who looked almost as morose as Arya, which wasn’t surprising when you thought about the music that they were being forced to play. “If this is to be the mood for the entire evening, we are all going to die of boredom.”

You let go of Arya’s hands for a few moments to whisper your instructions to the band. They all seemed to perk up immediately, sitting up in their chairs, the light coming back into their eyes. The tune changed from the sullen one that you had grown accustomed to hearing, to one that was jubilant and full of life. Reclaiming Arya’s hands in your own, your spun her around, prancing around in ridiculous circles until a smile finally graced her lips, and then a small laugh bubbled through, and you knew that your work was done.

You gave her one last smile, twirling her in another circle before stumbling off of the dance floor. All of the spinning had made you a bit dizzy, and with all of the skirts that Sansa had swaddled you up in, you weren’t surprised that you had nearly tripped a few times before you had even made it away from the dancers.

Robb’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you away from the mass of bodies that had swarmed the dance floor. You would have been surprised, especially because you hadn’t thought that Robb was anywhere near you, but he had a habit of turning up when you needed someone.

“What was it that you wanted earlier?” You asked breathlessly, collapsing into the chair that he had guided you to.

“Do you remember when my mother was so angry at us for sneaking into these feasts that she made us attend all of those dreadful dancing lessons?” Robb asked, smiling at Arya dancing with Rickon among the masses.

“Of course I do,” you laughed, recalling the many afternoons you had spent with your slightly nasty dance master. “Your mother was so sure that we would never turn up to another ball again if we had to take those lessons, but you were at every single lesson.”

“Naturally, you were so excited, and there was no way that I was going to miss it when you tripped over your own two feet.”

“If I recall correctly, you were always responsible for catching me after I messed up a new step.” You lazily punched him in the shoulder, but the laughter died in your throat as Robb caught your fist and linked his hand with yours.

“And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

It wasn’t the act of holding his hand in yours that caused your breathing to falter. You had been holding pinkies since you had met, so after that, what was a hand? It was the way that his eyes were staring into yours, unwavering. For the first time in a long time, you felt yourself blushing because of Robb Stark.

It wasn’t something that happened often, the two of you had grown up together, after all. Your mother had been best friends with Cat, and when they passed away, it was no question that you were going to stay with Ned and his family.

You had been quiet when you arrived at Winterfell for the first time. It had only been a day or two since your mother and father had moved on, taken from you suddenly by a terrible affliction. You were assured that your friends would all be waiting for you, but that wasn’t good enough. You wanted your parents.

And even though you constantly reminded Robb of that, he was there for you at every turn. Bringing you a flower he found near a spring, hoping to make you smile, or telling you a poorly thought out joke, just waiting for just a glimpse of the dimples he used to know so well. And as much as you wanted to give him a glimpse of your former self, you needed time. Somehow, even at such a young age, both of you understood. And you had remained solemn, until one afternoon, he heard a giggle echoing from her chambers.

Robb threw open the door to find you sifting through a drawer full of dried flowers, picking them up one by one and examining them. He marched into the room, demanding to know why you had been so sad before. You never had been able to give him an answer, simply handing him one of the flowers and telling him that you were sorry. You never had offered him an explanation for those first few weeks.

“Y/N?” Robb’s voice and both of his hands cupping yours somehow managing to effectively draw you back to reality. “Are you okay?” his voice was soft, almost as if he was afraid to scare you away. He should know better than that by now.

“I was thinking about when I first came to live with you, well everyone. And you worried yourself over making me feel welcome, and you were so confused when you found me with that drawer full of flowers.” You sounded dreamy, still thinking about the days when things felt easier.

“You never did tell me why you kept all of those flowers. Especially when they never made you smile in the first place.” He smiled down at your hands, where his thumb was stroking the back of your hand.

“Because I knew that they were going to make me happy eventually,” You met his eyes, hoping that he understood what you were trying to tell him. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” Robb looked like he was going to answer, but you were finished wasting time moping about when there was a party going on. “Let’s dance, Stark.”

And without another word, the two of you were out of your chairs and headed for the dance floor. The musicians had kept their promise, and the music was lively. You were pleased to see that Arya had dragged Sansa into a group of dancers, and it brought a smile to your face to see that everyone was happy, for the time being. It was rare to stumble upon a moment where someone wasn’t squabbling, and when you managed to find one, you most certainly weren’t going to take it for granted.

Read Part Three Here!

fighting antisemitism should already be something you do just because it’s the correct thing to do, but if somehow jewish safety doesn’t matter to you then at least think about the ways that antisemitism furthers the oppression faced by palestinians.

it’s a sad truth but nevertheless it’s silly to act as though palestinian liberation will be achieved while antisemites are allowed to run rampant in society. that very antisemitism is exactly what israel and zionists use to indoctrinate jews to their cause, and yknow what? it works.

a lot of liberal western zionists are zionists bc of brainwashing, which i’ve discussed at length in other posts. but when there are numerous examples of antisemitism to point to in order to try to justify israel’s existence, it only makes their case stronger. it’s pure selfishness for jewish zionists to believe that the jewish right to safety is more important than the palestinian right to safety, of course. but unfortunately this is what happens.

so yeah, like i said, you should already be combatting antisemitism just because it’s the right thing to do, but if that reason isn’t good enough for you then here’s something else to think about.

Really really long night vale theory

God this arc frustrates me to no end because i just CANT figure it out…!

Lets break it down… Theres multiple realities, our canon night vale and the 1983 night vale. Potentially more. We already know about our night vale, but what do we know about the 1983 reality?

  • Cal exists.
  • Following that, episode 33- “Casettes” likely is also part of 1983. The movement Cecil kept noticing in that episode and the one in 106 “filings” are probably one in the same. Kind of.
  • Leonard Burton met a very very grisly fate, but it may be unrelated to the end of the world the tapes warned us about.
  • The end of the world
  • Bethany didn’t.
My proposal: nuclear bomb. Or something.
  • Cal seems to have radiation poisoning, similar to that of the victims who survived Hiroshima.
  • More subtly, look at the way Cecil spoke of the end of the world in “Best Of?”. He spoke with urgency, but as if it were too late. This end of the world was sprung suddenly on night vale, theres enough time for cecil to talk to his listeners one final time but not enough time to get to safety. It couldn’t be a slow apocalyptic situation that takes time to develop, such as zombies, and its not an instantaneous thing. Theres enough time before the end for cecil and the residents of night vale to live their last moments in despair and terror.
  • Bethany didn’t. Didn’t what? Survive? Many people didn’t that year. Meaning that some people DID. People such as Cal who are now terribly irradiated and absolutely dying.
Now for the third and fourth possible realities:

Bowling Alley

  • The miniature city under the desert flower bowling alley and arcade fun complex
  • having the same residents, all apparently unaware that they exist in a smaller version of the town above them, its not infeesable that our night vale is also a miniature unaware of the larger, identical town housing them.
  • a vague yet menacing government agency steals the miniature cities buildings, perhaps a similar thing is happening with the disappearing buildings in night vale, probably not, but its a fun notion to humor.
Normal Night Vale
  • A normal town where everything is normal and nothing weird happens ever.
  • this is mostly inspired by the fact that cecil referred to bethany in present tense, bethany doesnt exist in our night vale and has been dead and gone for who knows how long in 1983. Meaning the memory of her still existing isn’t in canon OR 1983, potentially pointing to another reality where shes still alive and well.
  • the same thing goes for danas father, that reality is good enough for dana to abandon her night vale, meaning its probably not an irradiated wasteland.
Theres likely infinite other timelines, carlos mentioning quantum physics and the multiverse and all. But these four are the notable ones.

Other notable things are the existence of huntokhar, the distant prince, and the woman from Italy all currently existing in or approaching night vale. These three characters are related to eachother somehow, im sure of it. Coincidences dont happen in night vale. But the question is how? And WHY?

Ive written theories about this before but ive always had a sneaking suspicion that night vale isnt real. Even in the podcasts own canon, i dont think it exists on the same plane as everything else. Cecil makes mentions to the rest of america and the government but doesn’t know common states, when night vale sent a distress call for help to the american government after valentines day the government didnt take them seriously. When looking at a map of america cecil said it was wrong, recognizable but wrong, showing that theres a clear disconnect between night vale and the rest of the country, neither quite knowing the other.

Time is strange in night vale. Carlos himself said that time doesnt work there. This is furthered by the professor at the university of what it is when she came in serve for carlos saying that hes been missing for DECADES. By that point carlos had only been in night vale for, what, three years? But nope. Hes been missing for DECADES.

Something, best shown in the book, is that its hard to leave night vale. It was said that it was hard to come and go in the podcast, but the book showed diane crayton trying and failing REPEATEDLY. She always ended up back in night vale even when she logically shouldnt have. What makes it so hard to find and leave?

Also the dog park. The dog park is the only way to easily leave night vale but still makes return very very difficult. Something we often forget is that carlos and dana are the exception, not the rule. Most people in the dog park are still unable to return to night vale.

So i propose that night vale isnt in the same plane of existence as the rest of the world. Not isolated nessecarily, the fictional countries cecil has gone to are on the same plane, but far away and inconvienient. Imagine night vale as an island of abnormality in the sea of our real world. The dog park is the most viable gateway between the reality where night vale exists and where night vale doesnt, the empty desert is where night vale WOULD stand but in this reality (our reality) its just an empty desert where no one decided to build a small town. Since portals between realities are much less common in the real world than in night vale it would make returning EXTREMELY difficult.

I think that maybe, just maybe, the woman from Italy, the distant prince, and huntokhar are trying to merge night vale with reality. That timelines are ripping apart and blending together becaude they NEED to be combined to assimilate into the real world. Night vale might be turning into a normal town, and those who refuse to escape to the new reality being presented to them will have their realities crumble around them. Perhaps THATS what happened to the miniature cities sky.

I forgive everything. the stomach pains. the words lost between languages. the worst headache of my life. if nothing else, you make my hands feel like hands. listen: I’d collect your ghosts. I’d swallow them whole. once on a plane, I cried about the blanket the flight attendant gave me. it reminded me of you. there’s a love that exists somewhere between new york and cairo that has your name on it. I hope it finds you. I don’t want the pictures. I want each memory to live inside of me forever. I want the songs back. the ones the storeowners play in bayridge when they’re missing home (which is to say the songs are always playing). I forgive it all. the woman who did unforgivable things, the food that went bad too early, the impatient drivers, my stomach always leaving me. you make my heart feel like it could get something right. I want dreams for you. I want to say I’ll see you soon, but who knows when I’ll see you. you break my heart a little, but don’t let it get to you. everything breaks my heart a little. I just want you to know I remember you. you exist everywhere I go which means you’ve been across the state, across the country, across the world by now. you make my poems wilt less. you make everything wilt less. I want a world of flight for you. which means you could land anywhere. which means I already forgive if it’s a lifetime away from me.

Reblog if you don’t mind interacting with an Autistic RPer

Just wanted to spread the word that Autistic people who roleplay do exist. And to also get some reassurance that there are people who won’t get freaked out by me. I’m relatively new, so hate and the like hasn’t happened yet, but it’s bound to and I just wanna know I have people who will support me. 

Honorable members of the wizengamot.” Draco was glad to find out his voice was quite steady. “At some point during a war you have to ask yourself, where do you live for? For yourself? Your family? For your friends? For your house? For no one? For everyone? Only for those who share your beliefs?”
“For me the answers to that have always been clear. I live for my family first, my friends second, myself if there’s any time left to spare, which usually there isn’t.”
“Not many people believe me when I say that, because most people see me as the pinnacle of selfish and self centred. But do you think I wanted to take the mark? Kill my headmaster? Torture people who did nothing to deserve that?” Draco was pretty sure he still looked like he could drop dead at any moment, but his voice was gaining a bit of strength.
“Most people say yes. I say no. I was sixteen. I wanted to play quidditch, read books, play chess, bully my childhood crush. I did not want to kill, I did not want to torture, I did not want to join Voldemort’s ranks.” There were quite some gasps as he addressed Voldemort by his name, but most people seemed to amazed by the fact that this child like skeleton could talk at all. Draco himself barely noticed any of it. He just wanted to get this over with.
“However it didn’t matter what I wanted, because there was no time to spare, and my family needed me to play a part. I did not see it as a choice. I did not see it as one of many options.” He looked up, directly into the eyes of Kingsley who now led the wizengamot. “It was my only option, and I accepted that.”
“I have always been a brilliant actor. People still think I am straight for one. They think I support Voldemort’s beliefs for another. I don’t. For me mudblood was an easy insult. A move that always scored, a pick up line that always worked.”
“But as soon as I was confronted with the actual meaning of the word, with actual murder and torture, all I wanted to do was run. Run and vomit.” His voice was shaking now, and every irregular breath he took send a wave of pain through his body. “All my family wanted was for me to join in. There was no spare time. I could not run.”
“I do not have a good versus evil guide line, drawn with the moral compass of a brave and proper hero. I am no Harry Potter. My line is a grey area of people I do and do not consider as family or as friends.” He cleared his throat again and glanced at the audience where Pansy, Theo and Blaise sat. He was vaguely pleased to note that even Blaise was crying.
“Why would anyone from a different house ever be on my good side? Why would anyone from my house switch sides when they are being separated from day one, stereotyped and put in a corner. You are a slytherin. You are a Malfoy. You are a Nott. You are a Black. You are bad. You are a death eater. You may only be eleven years old, you may lack the ability to think independently from your parents, but you are a true follower of the dark lord no matter if you want to be or not. We, the light side, will push you in this mould of a bad guy until you break or until you fit into it.”
He took a shaky breath, which wasn’t even an extra touch of drama but actually necessary in order for him not to pass out. “You are a slytherin. You are evil.”
“I have asked it before and I will ask it again, what reason did I have to invite other houses into my inner circle? Which one of you ever asked any of us to switch sides? You say we had plenty of opportunities. I say the only one I got was at the top of the astronomy tower, wand drawn and arm already marked, a shaking sixteen year old whose mother would die if he did not succeed. What kind of opportunity is that? What kind of choice?”
“During the war my inner circle existed out of people who I loved, and who loved me back. They were bad people with bad intentions, but I loved them nonetheless. I lived for them. I did not even know that was a choice.” His voice was properly breaking now, and he could see the majority of the wizengamot members lean forward to catch his words. Good. Let them hear as well as see what dementors do to a teenager.
“I know this may not be the speech that will get me off the hook, but it’s how I think about my past. It is the story I want others to hear in the hope that they might offer a hand to those who are in the same situation.”
It was with his last strength that Draco lifted his head, and let his eyes drift over the people who would decide over his fate. “I know now that what I did was wrong. I lived for my family and the people they surrounded themselves with. I shared their morals because I never got the chance to make my own.
—  Draco Malfoy, The last hearing
2

*me yelling at my screen*: ISABELLA ISABELLA ISABELLAAAA!!!!

Wouldn’t this be the perfect time to reveal that Isabella was sent by the court?

He confidently announced “You’re no match for me!”, so wouldn’t it be the biggest attack on his ego to reveal to him that they had already bested him? 

Now let’s think about the implications for Nygmobblepot. We already know that Ed has been feeling guilt and missing him. And probably the only way he reassures himself is to remember that Isabella also lost her life. But then to find out that he lost Oswald in the name of a woman who didn’t really exist. For the sake of a love that wasn’t even real. And on top of that, we know that Oswald will be the one to help him get out of this situation. So can you imagine Ed finding out that Isabella was sent by the court and then having enough time to let that sink in. Only to have Oswald, in the flesh, show up as his unexpected savior? 

Kill me now because I’m already dead.

Two of them

Originally posted by leahlahote

Request: Can you write a Paul imagine where you’re his imprint but you don’t know and you start getting close to Jacob and he gets all jealous and blurts out that you’re his imprint and it ends with fluff and stuff or whatever you want?
For: @emmersdagreat
Words: 1,620
Paul Lahote x Reader


“Don’t say it.” Paul snapped as Jared dropped down on the sand next to him. Jared sighed and leaned back on his hands as he watched Paul, who watched you and Jacob giggling on the other side of the bonfire.
“You know that you’re an idiot right?” Jared asked.
Paul tore his gaze away from you helping Jacob flatten his hair to glare at his best friend, “Excuse you?”

Jared leaned forwards, “You’re the only one out of all of us who got it easy with an imprint. I mean, she already knows all about the pack, she knows that imprints exist and she’s taken all of that information without freaking out. I mean it does suck that she’s close enough to Sam to be his sister so he’s down your neck about it but think about what the rest of us got; Kim wouldn’t talk to me for months, Sam attacked Emily by accident and Quil’s imprint still needs a babysitter.”

“Is this supposed to be a newsflash? Like I didn’t know all of this?” Paul snapped.

Jared punched him in the arm, “I just thought you needed reminding since you’re happy to let her and Jake get so close. Y/N doesn’t know that she’s hurting you and you keep lying to Jake and telling him that you’re rejecting the imprint. Why don’t you let him in your mind? Then he’d see how you really feel about her.”

Paul groaned and rolled his shoulders as close as he was to his pack brothers, Jared especially, he didn’t really like to talk about feelings, not because he liked to pretend that he didn’t have them but because it might spark him into phasing. He especially didn’t like to talk about you because as soon as Sam had felt safe enough to introduce you to the pack he’d imprinted on you. He’d decided instantly that he wasn’t going to do that to you, that he could ignore the imprint, no matter how much it physically hurt him, so that you could stand a chance with someone better.

Sam and Jared knew, he couldn’t keep them out of his mind when he phased, but Sam had tried to respect his choice and kept everyone else off of Paul’s patrols so that he could have his mind to himself for a while.
Sam approached Jared and Paul and Jared took it as his cue to leave, he clasped Paul on the shoulder and told him, “There’s nothing like an imprint bud.” Then he left to go attach himself to Kim.
Sam took his place in the sand, “You know, he’s right, there’s nothing like an imprint.”

Paul shook his head, “We’ve already had this conversation Sam, Y/N doesn’t need someone with my temper.”
Sam nodded, “That’s true but since you’ve been trying to ignore the imprint your temper has gotten worse not better. Trying to ignore the bond isn’t good for either of you.”
Paul said nothing.

Sam sighed and sensing that he wasn’t getting anywhere, rose before asking, “Before the pack, Y/N was my closest friend, even still she is and I want her to be happy and my pack to be happy. I’ll stop pestering you about it if you’re happy knowing that even if she falls in love with Jacob, that to him she’ll always just be someone to distract him until Bella comes back.”

With that Sam left and Paul sat stewing in the new rush of emotions that the question had brought on.

Jacob’s big grin distracted you for a moment but when your laughed faded you found your eyes flitting over to where Paul was sat with Sam, he looked awful, his eyes had dark circles and his hair was a mess. He’d been avoiding you since you’d met him, you’d even asked Sam if you’d done something but he assured you that you hadn’t, in all honesty you didn’t even know why you were so bothered about someone you barely knew.

Well you did know, you’d had a massive thing for Paul almost instantly after meeting him but you told Sam it was because you didn’t like to see his friends upset.
He didn’t look like he believed you.

“You’re starring again.” Jacob warned you and you looked back to him with your cheeks burning at being caught.
“Ugh, I’m such a creep aren’t I?” You asked with a groan.
Jacobs laughed loudly, “No, you and Paul are more alike than you think. Why don’t you go talk to him?”
Just go and talk to him.” You mocked his voice and he gave you a bored look before you continued, “Every time I get close to him he practically runs away. Do you think he’s mad that I’m not part of the pack?”

Jacob scowled and shook his head, “You’re practically Sam’s sister. You’re part of the pack, that’s not in question.”
His certainty and honesty made you smile and you were still smiling when the sand beside you shifted and you looked up to see Paul stood in front of you.
“Black.” He greeted.
Jacob looked between you and Paul, “Good to see you Paul, over here.”

You raised your brow at his weird phrasing but Paul caught your attention, “Y/N, do you fancy a walk down the beach?”
“Of course.” You answered without thinking and he gave you a small smile in response and held his hand out to help you up.

You thanked him and when he dropped your hand he extended his arm for you to take, which you did and were taken back by his warmth.  You walked like that for a ten minutes until the bonfire was barely visible.
“Sorry, I just – well here we’re out of range of wolf hearing.” Paul explained.
You gave him a nervous laugh, “Well that’s not ominous at all.”
Paul shook his head, “I just don’t want those idiots interrupting, I’m sorry that I’ve been ignoring you.”
You let go of his arm and stood back so that you could face him, “I’m sure you had your reasons.”
He nodded, “I did but unfortunately they were all stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like you at all.” You teased.
He laughed at your joke but worry still ruled his expression, his large hands caught your hands and held them.
You grinned at the heat they generated.

He held your gaze, “Y/N I was ignoring you because I wanted to try to keep you safe and let you find someone better, but I want to be that person because you make me better. I know this is coming out of nowhere but you’re my imprint, I thought I could ignore it for your sake but I can’t and I don’t want too. If you’ll let me, I want to be the one to make you feel safe and make you laugh because you do all of that for me.”

—-

When Sam heard that Paul had asked you to go for a walk to discuss the imprint he was thrilled, as much as he was unhappy at first he knew that an imprint was a powerful thing and that Paul was one of the strongest wolves in the pack.

Given the fact that you’d spent the past few weeks staring at him like a love sick puppy, he didn’t expect you to come storming down the beach with Paul behind you. You pointed at Sam, “You! We’re supposed to be friends, why didn’t you warn me about this mutt!”

“Mutt!” Paul barked, “This mutt is way too good for you, you stuck up prude.”

The pack stopped to watch you and Paul shouting at them all. Sam stood, held his hands up and asked, “Woah, woah, what’s happening?”
“Imprint!” You snapped, “As if I’d be tethered to that for the rest of my life.”
“Yeah well you’re no prize!” Paul snapped back.

Sam and the rest of the pack looked between the pair of you, horrified by the turn of the events. Emily, who had been watching from the back, took pity on her wolf and stepped beside Sam, “To say you’re so angry Paul, you’re not shaking.” She pointed out.

Paul sent you a side eyed glance; you were the first to break from your angry façade. A grin spread across your features and Paul followed suit as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He rested his head on you shoulder and laughed, “Okay so we’re busted.”
“What just happened?” Sam asked Emily.
Emily brushed his hair to one side, “I think their chat went well, they were pretending to be angry at each other.”
“Is this true?” Sam asked you both.
“Yep.” You grinned.
“Why?” He asked incredulously.
“Not much else in the way of entertainment around here.” Paul explained for you before kissing your cheek.

“So you just decided to mess with all Paul?” Quil asked.
“Hey, it wasn’t my idea.” Paul laughed and moved one arm from your waist so that he could point at you. You swatted his hand and giggled.
“Great, now there are two of them.” Jared groaned and the rest of the pack joined him.

Paul whispered in your ear, “So, how else do you want to mess with these guys?”
You leaned back so that you could kiss his cheek and answer, “Oh I have a few ideas.”

Never Grow Up - 1

2


SUMMARY: Sebastian watches his little girl grow up.

WARNINGS: fluff, my friends.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: you all know how much i love dad!seb so of course i’m going to write a short series about it. please don’t kill me lol. if you want to be tagged in this series, let me know! it’s going to be about 4 or 5 chapters. 

Enjoy!


Sebastian held your hand through each push you gave. He peered over your bent legs and saw the baby’s head crowning. His eyes filled with tears, not believing the fact that the woman he loved was giving birth to his daughter. Their own daughter.

“You can do it, baby.” He leaned in close to your ear. “I see her little head.”

You squeezed Sebastian’s calloused hand a couple of more times before a cry broke out through the room. It was the loudest and most sharpest cry Sebastian had ever heard in his life, but it was something so beautiful. He wouldn’t ever forget it.

Keep reading

teen wolf prompt list #2

1.“literally everything about this is illegal.”

2.“you just want attention, you don’t want my heart.”

3.“you just want to make sure i’m never getting over you.”

4.“I can’t quit you.”

5.“I know I just spit blood all over you, and this is a really bad time but I have to tell you something.”

6.“there’s something you should know, in case I don’t come back.”

7.“I thought you forgot about me.” “never.”

8.“was that supposed to hurt me?”

9.“maybe I should stop and start confessing.”

10.“it’s okay, I didn’t expect you to love me.”

11.“I trusted you!” “that was your first mistake, your second, falling in love with me.”

12.“I have a plan.” “Is it a good one?” “I have a plan okay!”

13.“well unfortunately the best of the best was unavailable so we got the best of the mediocre.”

14.“you just hate the thought of me with someone new.”

15.“you shouldn’t be so trusting darling, the world is a dangerous place.” “you don’t scare me.” “I should.”

16.“oh god, you’re in love with him.”

17.“I don’t want to die.” “I won’t let you, if you die, I do too.”

18.“how long have you been standing there?” “longer than you’d imagine.”

19.“I am the one that listens when the line is dead.”

20.“that has got to be the lamest pick-up line in existence.” “oh honey that was just plan A.” “okay than what’s plan B?” “take you hostage duh.”

21.“they’re afraid of me. I don’t blame them, I’m afraid of me too.” “I’m not.”

22.“well this is a nice change of scenery.” “we’re in a jail cell?” “oh for the love of god I was being sarcastic!”

23.“I wanted you to fight for me and you didn’t, you just let me walk away.”

24.“A small fire, my exact words were set a small fire, this is not small!”

25.“you know I can kill you right?” “I’m already dead.”

26.“what do you mean work with him? He tried to kill me. Twice actually.”

27.“If I knew that would be the last time I held you, I would’ve held on tighter.”

28.“I always knew it was you.”

29.“she doesn’t love me, she’s not that stupid.”

30.“i’ll be the first to tell you, I’m a terrible liar.”

31.“am I going to regret this?” “probably.”

32.“I’ve lost count of the promises you’ve broken, so please don’t make anymore.”

33.“I’d take a bullet for you, I told you that before.” “except you’ll heal, and if you tell me one more time, i’m going to be the one pulling the trigger.”

34.“wow can we pretend for one second that you’re not a complete douchebag?”

35.“you’ve got to believe me.” “sorry I tend to not believe compulsive liars.”

36.“shut up.” “but I didn’t say anything.” “I don’t care shut up.”

37.“uh you have blood on your shirt.” “I suppose I do.” “You don’t just go nowhere and get blood on your shirt.”

38.“just take a deep breath or something.” “take a deep breathe? It feels like my insides are being ripped out, and you want me to take a deep breathe?”

39.“i’ll be there for you, but you gotta be there for me too." 

40."So I uh notice you’re kind of naked, is that intentional or..”

Originally posted by tyler-alpha-posey

Originally posted by allpeopleareincredible

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Originally posted by -voddeke-

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

Originally posted by showandwrite

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Originally posted by laheys-girl

Originally posted by showandwrite

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ:

Hi everyone! So I made a new prompt list to request from, I still have a couple to do from my other prompt list but since that one got popular I decided to make another one. If you want to request from this list make sure you message me saying PROMPT LIST #2 and the number and handsome hunk of man you want it with. Thanks a lot in advance!

xoxoxox

REQUSTS CURENTLY CLOSED.

An Open Letter To The People I Used To Love

Hi,

It’s been a while. It’s sad that things had to be this way. I apologize for not being the perfect playlist of your life. I apologize for the summer fights and cold nights that put cracks on your walls. I thought I could tear them down and be even closer to you. If you’d ask me how I’m doing, I’d say I’m doing great. Maybe not as great when I was with you but I’m coping. I’m slowly getting used to the idea of impermanence of people in my life. My skies might turn grey but I hope the sun still shines on you. I wish I could move on but the thing is, I never learned how to do it. I know when I bump into a memory of you, things will just come back to me. Maybe it wouldn’t make me feel anything anymore but I’m sure I’ll remember you. Thank you for making me happier and letting me realize the existence of sadness even if I’m with my favorite person. Lastly, I hope you’ve already found the greatest story of your life. I hope your favorite person shows you off proudly. If we bump into each other one day, maybe we could get a drink and talk about you and me, separately. This letter wasn’t made to blame you or love but to make you realize that even if we’re not together anymore, the parts you gave me are still here inside my heart. Never will I throw them out. You own a spot inside me and you still somehow make me feel alive. See you soon. I wish you enough, always. 


PS: This letter is sealed with a forehead kiss and long tight hug. I loved you.

You’re My Starlight

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Words: 612

Warnings: none.

Anon asked “Hi could you write a similar story as sleep sugar with tom holland? Ps I love you”
                                                               &
“I need sleep sugar with tom holland like I need Jesus in my life”

A/N: The song is Cradled in Love by Poets of the Fall which is basically the best band to ever exist. Let me know if you want to be tagged HERE or HERE.

Keep reading

Why Don’t You Ask Her

A/N: Three months later and this is finally being posted. I don’t know if it’s actually been three months, but the point was that it’s been a long ass time. Sorry to whoever requested this btw.
I feel like the ending uses names too much, but like the same pronouns can get confusing okay? 
Never the less, I hope y’all like it.

Pairing: Jughead x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,838 

Warnings: swearing, angst (lmao this became way more angsty than i had intended it to be), and that’s all I can think of

Request: (From the dialogue list) 16 with Jughead please. Like the reader feels like she isn’t good enough because Jughead is always writing and hanging out with Betty or something!

16. “You make me feel like I’m not good enough.”

masterlist | prompts

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I am a Norse polytheist who is from the US. Although sometimes I don't like it, I know that I'm a product of this 'new' world, colonial culture. As such, I feel like an outsider in my religion because I do not view Scandinavia as some kind of spiritual homeland and see the gods most strongly in America. How would you approach this feeling of alienation?

First things first anon, I’m going to get a little sweary here - not at you though:

The idea of Scandinavia as some Holy Land in Asatru/Heathenry is bollocks. It is, quite frankly, a steaming pile of bullshit imported from some remnants of a Christian millenialist second-coming theology.

I mean no offense to my Scandinavian followers who are lovely people, or to any of you American folks by saying this. It’s one thing to visit the lands where Heathenry originated to soak up the landscapes spoken of in the Eddas, to visit, say, the actual places where the sagas and poems are set.

But to view them as any more holy than the lands which we inhabit now? Utter rubbish. Which isn’t to say that we can’t make journeys to where our literal ancestors came from, to learn about ourselves, but to lend those lands some kind of mystic importance is, well, a bit odd to me. I get that it arises from a desire to connect, to feel rooted, particularly in a ‘colonial’ culture, I really do.

Here’s the thing though - though I would dearly love to visit Iceland one day, I don’t need to. I don’t need to because I’m lucky to live in Britain, in the midst of the Danelaw. People who honoured my gods walked the same paths I walked, breathed the same water, felt the same earth beneath their feet. Round here, there’s Norse placenames everywhere. Less than eight miles away from me, they discovered the Silverdale Hoard in 2011.

I’m not pointing this out to lord my “my land is more Heathen than yours” status, but to illustrate a point. See, the Norse folk came here, and yes they raided, but they also settled. They intermixed with the local populace - they themselves were 'colonial’! Those Norse placenames I mentioned? They probably had Anglo-Saxon and British names before the colonists came, but the Norse ones have stuck, some thousand years later.

Those colonists named places for their gods, for words and concepts in their own language. They folded this new land into their worldview. To be sure, some of the Deep Cultural similarities between Norse and Anglo Saxon cultures would have helped, but the fact remains that Thor met Thunor here, Odin met Woden.

You anon, live far to the West, and there is mounting evidence that those plucky explorers got that far, as I’m sure you know. Maybe they survived and intermixed in ways archaeology has yet to show, or maybe they all died. It doesn’t matter, not really - because while they lived, they no doubt did the same as those folk who came here, to this small island.

They named places in their native tongues, and probably learnt some Native American names too, just as your countrymen still, in some areas live in places bearing original indigenous names.

I’ve said before that Heathenry is local. Sure, the gods are honoured and worshipped by those who feel the need. Sure, one honours one’s ancestors. But one also needs, if one is serious about attempting to achieve a modern version of the Heathen worldview, learn to connect with the environment in which we live.

Now, when I say local, I don’t mean you should practice American Heathenry™. I don’t know where you live in the States anon, but I’m pretty sure it’s a place with its own moods and rhythms. From my memory of trips to the US, Maryland is different to Key West is different to the Everglades is different to Miami.

Scale down your consciousness in a sense. Practice the customs and traditions of your town, your house, your garden. There’s maybe twenty Heathens in my town that I know of, and of those, they form two distinct populations. Which is perfectly fine. For all I know you’re the only Norse Polytheist in the area or choose not to associate with others for political or personal reasons or because they’re the kind of silly numpties who believe in white supremacy or some sort of bollocks like that.

That’s fine, and it’s fine because ultimately, only you can forge the connections needed. Only you can open yourself up to the world in which you live and call the gods to aid you in becoming aware of the threads which bind all wights together.

Only you can make the decision to live in a rooted way, to take your nourishment and strength from the land in which you live. How to do that though? From a non woo perspective, seek out local food and produce if you can - and it doesn’t have to be all the time - and make a deliberate attempt to be aware that  you are eating the fruits of this land.

If you can’t find, or can’t afford local produce, do the same with a glass of tap water. Even if the source is far away, it has still flowed through this land into your dwelling. Research the history of where you live - if there are any local founders or luminaries, pour them out an offering to say thank you for giving you a place to live. Obviously, in the US, this is fraught with implications regarding the displacement and maltreatment of Native Americans, but in my limited experience of such things, asking the gods to help bridge the gap in honouring all those who came before you, to this place is usually a good step.

And then, well, there’s trees. As a Norse Polytheist/Heathen, I bloody love trees. Not only can they connect you to Yggdrasil, the World Tree, in meditation, but if you’ll recall the Edda, humans came from driftwood enlivened by the gifts of the gods, so in a mythopoetic sense, trees are our kin, and we can learn much from them.

Think about the way they work; they emerge from a seed, sending root-tendrils out for water and nutrients, sprouting and reaching up, turning their leaves to the sun. If you’ve ever looked at trees along a street, you’ll probably notice that those tree roots will have cracked their way throug concrete - their vitality, their urge to seek out what nourishes them within the land in which they are embedded is such that it can break buildings and stone if need be!

This is something to contemplate in today’s increasingly urban society - that even despite the veneer of glass and steel and concrete, seeds still sprout, trees still grow, in defiance of so called 'civilisation’. And once you begin to notice this - really notice, you might begin to see the pulses and flows of that vitality, ancient, unstoppable, and all around us. You might contemplate that trees give us the fuel for our fires, light for our houses - what’s coal after all, but compressed vegetative matter, laid down long ago and burned to create steam which turns turbines producing electricity.

They take in carbon dioxide, give us the oxygen so we can breathe, their green chloroplasts capturing the sunlight, the source of all life on this planet, and their roots keep the topsoil in place so we can farm and consume that  which we farm, whether animal or vegetable. Each of them is unique, and some of them are older than we will ever be.

You might begin to consider how the oxygen they excrete mixes with the atmosphere, is stirred by the heat rising from the warmed earth to give us the winds which blow through their branches, setting their leaves to whisper with a language that birds learnt and passed to Odin and Sigurd both.

You might contemplate Nidhogg, down there gnawing at the roots of Yggdrasil, that old wyrm who steams in the cold by the kettle of roaring white-water. And you might consider Sigurd once again, slaying the wyrm and eating its heart as it cooks over a fire.

You might begin to breathe, to remember how your blood feels, there in your veins, right now, flowing, moving, giving you life, hue and goodly shape, all without you even trying. Might begin to feel something stir in your soul, as if a door opens, and suddenly, your ordinary world becomes infused with living beings. Might feel words on a screen suddenly reaching out, calling in old song.

Might iit be possible, for a moment, to recall the excitement of rediscovering something you had thought you had lost? Something you had thought you might never see again?

To entertain the notion that, if only for a while, there are places and times where the thousands of years and miles matter not a jot, because the gods and the ancestors and wights exist, right Here, right Now - maybe even as you read these words? All about you, just waiting, patiently, for you to notice the faintest traces of their presence. All you have to do is take a leap for a moment, a split second.

To allow  yourself to be connected. Because you already are, friend. Trust me. Feel free to let me know how it goes, anon.

Take care.