imprint ring


Summary: Reader is a close member of the McCall Pack through Chris Argent’s friendship with her mother. Taking a break from the pack following the supernatural deadpool Reader runs into a pair of hunting brothers on a hunt. She reaches the town Riverdale where she intrigues two investigating teens in the wake of a murder

Characters: Reader, Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Scott McCall, Stiles Silinski, Lydia Martin (mentioned), Liam Dunbar (mentioned), Deaton, and Polly Cooper (mentioned)

Words: 3399

Disclaimer: I don’t own Riverdale, Archie Comics, Teen Wolf or the characters. I do not own any songs ot gifs that may show up either.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, wounds, supernatural beings, and possession.

Author: Caitsy

Requested: @fandomnationwhore

Tagged: At the bottom

A/N: Hope everyone enjoys this!

Master List

Prompt List


Originally posted by fallenunicornn

Originally posted by asheathes

You quickly cleaned the stab wound in your side that would heal pretty quick. That’s a positive to being half angel, one third demon and one third human where you would heal faster than a human but slower that the supernatural parts of you. The healing time came down to the severity of the wound and if it was given by an alpha wolf. When you were conceived your father had been possessed by a high level demon and it turned out your father, once not possessed, was revealed to be a direct descendent of Jesus. Your mother however was an angel that fell once you were born. Somehow the human part of your father had managed to come to you so technically you had two biological fathers and one mother.

“Where will you go now?” Scott asked digging into his shoulder for the bullet still lodged in there from the fight.

“Travel around.” You shrugged tying the thread in order to begin stitching up the wound. It was a gaping wound that would take twice the time if you didn’t stitch it up.

“You could stay with us.” Scott said leaning against the counter.

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i found the ring when i was moving my stuff out of your apartment and now everything makes sense x vampire!hoseok

It’s been three months since you left and Hoseok has been trying to erase everything that reminds him of you. Be it gifts, things laying around the house, letters, photos, photos, photos, photos. That was the kind of person Hoseok was. Even though he’s been taught that in his life, however long it was meant to last him, he did the one thing he wasn’t supposed to despite trying not to.

He fell in love… hard.

But what happens when the one who gave him the meaning of love could no longer live up to it? Hoseok had to deal with it on his own when a week after the breakup, you were nowhere to be found. He didn’t think about it at all because how could he think of how you would be feeling when you didn’t consider his? He’s going through the things you’ve returned to him and when he comes across a familiar looking piece of accessory… Hoseok wonders how he didn’t see this coming.

The day I return to you your ring, is when I’ll go back before an eternity.

The missing puzzle pieces are coming together in Hoseok’s mind at the tone of your voice echoing in his mind as he grips onto the ring. It imprints against his palm until the full picture becomes clear to reveal to him the truth.

That was confirmed as he stood by the door of where you currently ‘lived’. The image Hoseok had of you being selfish, erased and replaced with a mirror to show that it had been him all along. You can’t even look at him. You’re smiling but Hoseok knows you’re not happy that - “How’d you find me?”

All he does is show you the ring you left behind, and if anything, it only made sense to him.

“Was it that obvious?”

“To me,” He murmurs, stepping in and feeling the door close by his back. He approaches you and you don’t - can’t move. Hoseok sits beside you when you make space for him without asking. He holds his palm up, and smiles when you place your hand. He gently slides the ring onto your rightful finger and it’s where it belongs. Before he can pull his hand away, you grip onto it, surprising Hoseok to look up to your face.

Fear is evident in your eyes and your smile shakes when Hoseok squeezes your hand in assurance.

“I’m scared, Hoseok,”

“I’ll be here, with you.”

((”weren’t you mad at me?”

“were? still am,” hoseok snaps, eyeing you to the mattress and you pout, swinging his hand leisurely and the wires clink to the side of your bed. “hoseok…”

“but i know why you did what you did. i can’t say i appreciate it though,”

“you sure you still mad?”

“just because you have cancer doesn’t get you off the hook,”

“can you at least sing me to sleep?”

“…you don’t know when to give up, do you?”

“isn’t that what you like best?”

“…what song would you like?”))

Guys. This card is a buck. Why aren’t more people running it?

I’ve gotten away with murder with it. Sol Ring Imprinted with Unwinding Clock on the field? Solemn Simulacrum? Artifact Lands?

And now Breya has access to Anointed Procession to double you tokens?

The Other Morstan-Sherlock Holmes-

Originally posted by benedictc

Requested by Anon

I’m going to go back through these oneshots and add them to my tag- seen below. My masterlist is faulty and I can’t figure out how to make a new one. So, if you’re looking for it, it’s the tag with my real name. 

Prompt: You’re Marys older sister who is intrigued when she tells you about her meeting with Sherlock Holmes. Curious about the Detective, you end up at Baker Street with the plan to completely blow him out of the water. How do you blow Sherlock Holmes out of the water? By using his own game against him. 

This is set before The Sign of Three, please enjoy and do request!! 


 The big Watson wedding was a little over a week away, and Mary had been insisting for days now that you follow her to Baker Street to meet Johns best man, the infamous detective Sherlock Holmes. She’d made you her Maid of Honor and wanted the two of you to get along when the day came for the wedding. 

  “Be warned, he tends to read people off the bat.” Mary chided, wiggling her eyebrows as you ascended the stairs to the flat. Your heart pounded against your chest as the lulling sound of a violin filled your ears, and your palms began to grow sweaty. “Sherlock?” 

The man at the window whipped around, lowering the violin in his hand. “Ah, Mary! John’s in the kitchen making tea. Feel free to join him.” His cerulean blue eyes flickered between you and your sister, narrowing the longer he stared at you. It took a moment for you to comprehend he was trying to read you. 

One of the perks of your past was that no one could read you on the first try. You were a closed book to most people until they either - proved themselves or earned your trust. It wasn’t like you tried to barricade your heart, but the circumstances had made it happen. The only person you had ever trusted almost off the bat was John, who Mary hadn’t stopped talking about since she’d met him. He was sweet, compassionate, driven… dedicated. Dedicated to the man who stood in front of you. 

  “And you are?” 

  “Oh, I am going to enjoy this.” You mused, holding a hand up to your younger sister as she and John attempted to break into the conversation. “You can’t read me, can you? The narrowing, the flicker back and forth between myself and Mary, scanning my clothing and possessions, you read people through observation.” Sherlock went slightly slack jawed as you snapped your fingers. “Deduction! That’s the term.” 

  “Sherlock, this is my older sister.” Mary said slowly, pressing her lips together to try and hide her smirk. “Y/n. She’s my Maid of Honor.” 

  “I already knew that.” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly, pressing his hands against his hips. “Older by a year, used to be engaged but was broken off. That’s why there’s an imprint of a ring on your finger. The overwhelming smell of coffee beans and the small stains on the cuffs of your blouse suggest you work in a coffee shop or you had coffee on your way in this morning. No animals, otherwise you’d have hair on your trousers. I-” He paused for a moment and breathed out through his nose. “I’m having a hard time getting the rest. That’s-” 

  “Abnormal?” You chided with a slightly amused tone. Sherlocks jaw tightened as you took a seat in Johns chair and crossed your legs at the ankles. “I’m good at this game myself, Mr. Holmes. You’re exceptionally skilled at the violin and have been playing for a number of years judging from the callouses growing on your fingers that press on the strings. You pride yourself off of your deductions and prying people apart, or you used to before your supposed suicide attempt. Being away from London for so long, making the people you love believe you’re dead tends to soften one up.” 

  “Those aren’t deductions.” Sherlock snapped, taking one long stride until he was up in your face. You were only a few inches shorter then him, but equally hard headed and cunning with your words. “I can only assume Mary told you all of this.” 

  “There’s remnants of dust on the windowsills, which means this flat was unoccupied for some time. You have the mind of a scientist, but you choose to be a detective because you think murders are interesting.” You sniffed the air and wrinkled your nose. “Once addicted to cigarettes, judging from the stale air but now you’re trying to go cold turkey off of… cocaine. Should I keep going?” 

  “No. Just tell me, were my deductions correct? The ones I was able to make?” Your lips quirked upward in a smile as you sat back down in the chair, leaning your head against the cushion. “Oh, you are infuriating. Aren’t you going to humor me and answer my question?” 

  ‘’That would be playing fair,” You replied bluntly. “But I’m a fair woman. No. Your deductions were wrong. I’m an immaculate woman who lives alone with my German Shepherd, who although sheds alot, I always lint roll my pants before walking out the door. I am Mary’s older sister by a year. I don’t work in a coffee shop, I had coffee on my way in this morning.” You clucked your tongue out of disappointment. “I’m disappointed, Mr. Holmes. I expected you to read me better.” 

The impending silence was due to Mary and John sneaking out of the flat while  the two of you were bickering. You glanced around the flat and cursed when you realized the couple had indeed run off, leaving you with the Detective. “You’re a closed book.” Sherlock replied quietly, snatching his violin and standing by the window. “I’ve seen them before. Not impossible to read, may I add. I didn’t want John to know any details you weren’t willing to divulge yourself.” 

Your heart stopped as your head snapped up, y/h/c strands blocking your eyes from his view. “You went easy on me?” You said softly, your eyes widening as Sherlock nodded. “Why?” 

  “Not every closed book wants to be opened again, y/n. Besides,” He knelt down in front of you, violin still poised, and began to play a morbid requiem he’d been composing for several days. “It’s hard to act like an ass to a woman such as yourself. You are.. stunning.” 

  “Is that flirting I hear, Sherlock Holmes?” 

  “It’s not just words. It’s me proclaiming that your beauty is something to marvel at.” You felt your cheeks grow hot as you ducked your head, your hair hiding your face from Sherlocks view. His gaze softened as he parted your hair and tilted your chin upward towards him. “You were engaged, but there’s no ring. What happened to it?” 

  “You were right about that too. My fiance died over a year ago. I used to wear the ring on a chain but when Mary told me I was meeting a man who reads people off the bat, I wanted to see if it would make it harder. It did.” Your eyes flickered down to his bow shaped lips just inches from yours, and you let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “Are you going to kiss me Sherlock?” 

  ‘’I think it would be a shame if I didn’t.” He whispered, his breath warm against your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as Sherlocks hands pressed against your thighs, lightly squeezing as he lifted the upper half of his body and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 

From where they stood in the hall, Mary curled her fingers into a fist and silently fist bumped John who was beaming at the sight in front of him. “You seriously expected him to like her at first sight? That’s so.. not Sherlock.” 

  “What can I say? We Morstans are.. irresistible.” 

“Vigilance”: Victor Zsasz Imagine

Originally posted by jellomo

Requested by @starfishfaerie“Imagine the reader is a new cop who stands up to Victor Zsasz when he visits the GCPD. Victor thinks they’re amusing and seeks them out again later.” 

My requests are open so please feel free to drop me one here

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Rape Fantasies


When you come in to town I leave my doors unlocked. I wait for you to give in and do everything you’ve wanted to do to me since we met. You remember, sweater vest, pleated skirt, Gogol. You remember.


It’s not really, like, rape per se, but like, I want to have no choice in the matter. To just be picked up and carried and be taken care of. It’s not like I’m saying no and he’s not stopping. Well, there are some things I’m gonna say no to that he’s supposed to keep doing anyway, but like, I’m not crying or anything, well, maybe. I just want to be taken care of. Just picked up and dealt with.


Before we had ever said words I had flash fantasies. There weren’t any storylines or plots, just his ringed fingers imprinted onto my face, tossed into a wall with my head slammed back. The thing is, slapping has never done anything to me. It feels weak, insulting. The all consuming hit where your skin tingles all the way down to your cunt. Your face was flushed before hand, but now it’s hot. Now you know he can take care of you. You’re something that someone can do something about. I imagined him saying nothing. He just had me by the throat or the collarbone and I was struck like I was dumb, like I was brain dead. The first time I saw him behind the wheel I thought of where the best cliff was.


It’s the freedom of it, that you don’t have to make choices for your body anymore. There is nothing for you to decide because it has already been done. And it’s sexy, if he’s sexy, to be in full possession of someone like that.


I remember, once, I said I was about to come and he took himself out of me to come in my mouth instead. The degradation of, take everything I can give and take it and take it and take it. Isn’t there a kind of love in that? They take on what you can’t. I guess I shouldn’t be mixing sex and love, but isn’t that how it is, even for the people who think sticking your fingers in her mouth is dirty, they say they love their “rock?” The one who doesn’t move no matter how much they throw at them? I think it’s something like that.


I lost my virginity to a guy who was afraid to slap me. I didn’t know what I was doing but I had to hold his hand to my throat. We didn’t use a condom and he didn’t buy me Plan B. I still have the box. I was afraid to throw it away incase someone saw it. I just wanted to know how to do it, to know that I could. I’m pretty sure he was bad at it, but I liked when my legs were up on his shoulders. I never made eye contact once.


I think I confuse sex and suicide. I want to be annihilated, but in a sexual way. And that’s where it comes into play. I would carry myself over the edge but it’s hard to be both the waterfall and the boat. It feels like assisted suicide. It’s coming and I asked for it and I want to take it even if about the absence of pain, it’s the presence of the pain-that you are feeling it and receiving it. The presence is worthwhile, the pain is beneficial. It gets you where you want to go, even if you’re scared. It makes things appear more real, corporeal, if you’re not the only one doing it. The cutting is masturbation, it’s fun, you know your body, but it’s nothing like someone knowing you better than you do.


I don’t know if I like all of that, but sometimes as a joke he’ll slap my ass but he doesn’t do it when we’re having sex and I don’t know how to ask him to hit me. I know it’s not the same, but it feels like that’s what I’m doing and I don’t even know why I like it. My home life was great growing up.


I was seeing a guy for a while who never wanted to have sex. He would always push me off of him or tell me to slow down when I started rubbing on his leg. I always dragged his hand further up my legs but it rarely went anywhere. He wasn’t a daddy but he was my dad. I accidently said that once and he cringed. He wasn’t fucking me but he wanted everyone to think he was so he’d bruise me, mostly my neck. He had total control over my body without ever tying me down. I wasn’t getting sex and I wasn’t sneaking around. He had every say and it had nothing at all to do with his penis.


I remember laying in bed with a boy who couldn’t give me what I wanted so I touched myself thinking about this other boy who only hours before told me how badly he wanted to kidnap me. I came and he didn’t even wake up.


I daydream about choking to death while giving head. I think I’d want it, if it happened. I think I’d take it as an opportunity.


I don’t know what to tell you, I’m the one who hears all of it, but it’s part of my job, to be voyeuristic. Some people love talking right away about all they want to do or what they want to be done to them and others are too ashamed to even consider acknowledging they have them. It works both ways, dads and moms. It’s just what happens, some cases are just more extreme. It’s my job to listen and not to judge, or at least don’t let them know that I’m judging. My daddy left me when I was eight but you don’t see me trying to get covered in candle wax do you?


He likes when I call him daddy in front of other people. One time we were on the phone. He was blackout drunk and I said, goodnight daddy. The next day we talked and I was surprised that he remembered. He says he remembers the important things. Another time I was seeing someone else. He’d just come back from a shroom trip and was wrapped around me while I was on the phone with him. I said, goodnight dad so the guy wrapped around me wouldn’t know and he said,  goodnight daughter and laughed because now I ruined it. I was wet before the call disconnected. Shroom boy fell asleep. Had to take care of it myself. After that, he always became daddy. Not just in public, but when I was bad, or when I needed saving.


Pretty fucked up, the relationship between dads and force, huh? What’s the science behind that one, Freud?


What about the Virgin Mary? Without context it just sounds like a title on PornHub. What roles does force play in that? God had a rape fantasy over Joseph’s girlfriend. That’s all that happened and look, we got the whole world. Fuck me under the pew, shove a rosary somewhere it shouldn’t be, I don’t give a fuck. Humans drink cow’s milk. God’s got a fetish tab bookmarked. Powerlessness is sexy. Why do you think we’re all trying to orgasm 3 times a day? Force created the world. What more is there to say? Just fuck until you stop hating your parents. Whatever that looks like.

anonymous asked:

"Do you think you can hold it?” Starter with Viktor and Yuuri out some where in public and Yuuri getting desperate enough to where he's doing the stepping forward and backward potty dance thing and Viktor notices and has a hard time finding a place for Yuuri to go


Barcelona around Christmastime was, in a word, crowded.

Not that Yuuri didn’t expect there to be a lot of people around—he did, just… not to the degree of crowds that he and Viktor were currently shoving their way through. And, honestly, if he’d known about how bad the crowds were going to be beforehand, he probably would’ve used the bathroom at the hotel instead of pushing it aside because it wasn’t that bad and he could just find somewhere to go while they were out.

Unfortunately, as he was growing to realize from the throngs of people and the long lines for every store and Viktor’s absolute zest for spending as much money in as many places as possible, he would regret that split-second decision very soon. Like, right now, actually.

Yuuri’s hand gripped Viktor’s a bit tighter as he let out a barely audible whimper, and he took the smallest step backward and then forward where they stood. They hadn’t even been out for thirty minutes, but already his bladder felt worryingly full, and he knew that if he didn’t empty it soon, then—well. He wasn’t going to think about that right now.

He waited what felt like forever for Viktor to finish buying whatever completely useless trinket he’d probably forget about in a week that had caught his eye, then waited another stressful, desperate eternity for the crowd to move them far enough away so he could speak freely.

“Viktor, ah.” Yuuri’s voice was soft, his hand holding Viktor’s a tad anxiously. “Can we take a b-break?”

Despite his best efforts to remain still, desperation and the urge to fidget got the best of him, and he squirmed nervously in place, one step forward and one step back. Yuuri’s shy blush grew brighter, knowing he was giving his predicament away.

Viktor looked him up and down quickly, his face softening in understanding seeing the little back-and-forth potty dance he was doing. “Oh, Yuuri, of course.” He pursed his lips slightly, looking around at the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, pulling his fiancé aside slightly so he could breathe. “Do…you think you can hold it?”

Yuuri averted his gaze, embarrassed. “I-I’m not sure, um…” He let out a small whimper, his fidgeting increasing in speed. “Maybe for a little bit…?”

Blushing slightly, a coy smile on his lips, Viktor reached forward and tilted Yuuri’s chin forward to face him. “A little bit, huh…?”

“I-it isn’t like that…!” Yuuri sputtered, covering his face with one hand, flustered and embarrassed that he’d think of saying something suggestive right then. “I—r-really, we’re in public and I can't— r-right now, we— I don’t want—” he was having trouble articulating, he had to go so bad— “I— do you understand?”

“Right, right, of course. Sorry.” Viktor’s face softened more, all the playful, teasing edge slipping out of his tone and expression. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Let’s go find you a restroom.”

“Th-thank you.” Yuuri pushed aside anxious thoughts that he was ruining his time together with Viktor and just clung to his hand as they pushed back through the crowd, trying to hold back increasingly desperate whines.

The pressure in his bladder was starting to feel unbearable. His free hand twitched, wanting to hold himself back, but he resisted the urge—fidgeting desperately in public was embarrassing enough, he didn’t need to be holding himself too. In an effort to cope with the overwhelming desperation, he zoned out, removing himself from the situation and focusing only on the calming sensation of Viktor’s skin against his, the cool metal of his ring pressing lightly into his palm.

Viktor’s voice snapped him back to reality, and Yuuri couldn’t even focus on that for a second, instead noticing the odd wet sensation between his legs.

His face burned crimson. Had he been leaking that whole time he was zoned out?

Not seeing any visible stain, he shook himself, resolving to pay more attention to keeping his increasingly achingly full bladder under control. “S-sorry, what were you saying…?”

“I said—” He was surprised that Viktor’s voice was still gentle and patient; it must’ve been the third time he’d repeated himself— “it doesn’t seem like there are any bathrooms without a long line.”

Yuuri was quiet, processing, growing more anxious. “Okay…”

“There are a few things you could do,” he continued, and he still sounded so calm, so gentle. “You could just find somewhere to go besides a restroom—” Yuuri began violently shaking his head— “right, I didn’t think so.”

Viktor gave his fiancé’s hand a quick, understanding squeeze before continuing. “We could also try to make it back to the hotel, or see if we can find a shorter line, or you could just… wait it out?”

Yuuri fell silent again, not weighing his options so much as fighting off his desperation and trying to determine how much time he had left before his bladder gave out entirely.

“U—um.” His voice was a bit scratchy with disuse and anxiety, and he leaned closer to Viktor, seeking warmth, distraction, comfort, his hand gripping his fiancé’s still tighter, no doubt leaving a ring-shaped imprint somewhere on his fingers. “We can try to find a line… I think… I might be okay.” He sniffled lightly in the cold air. “Let’s just see how it goes…”

“Alright.” Viktor gives Yuuri’s hand another reassuring squeeze before gently pulling him along the way to the nearest, shortest line. “Whatever makes you comfy.”

No less than five minutes later, Yuuri was feeling very decidedly not comfy. The line had barely moved an inch, and he was becoming frantic—there was no way he wasn’t cutting off circulation in Viktor’s hand by now. His bladder felt almost painfully full, and he was barely holding himself together, anxiety quelled only by the fact that he hadn’t leaked any more.


He was silent, fidgeting constantly, not looking up, giving no indication he’d heard Viktor. Viktor’s worries multiplied, and he took a step closer to him. “Yuuri, how are you holding up?”

Jumping slightly, Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to respond. The only sound that left, however, was a weak sort of squeaking sound that trailed into a whimper as he was hit by another wave of desperation. It was too much, too urgent for him to hold back, and he felt his underwear dampen in uncontrollable spurts. His mind whirled with panic— I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I’m going to piss myself, in front of everyone, I’m going to fucking piss myself…

“I— nnh. Th-this— I can’t. I can’t, Viktor, I-I—”

“Yuuri, look at me. It’s alright, you can do it—”

“N-no!” Yuuri’s voice came as a teary snap, harsher than he’d intended. “I-I can’t, the— everyone w-will, ugh— we’re i-in public and I can’t, it’s too much—”

To Yuuri’s overwhelming relief, Viktor seemed to see the worry in his expression and body language and somehow understand his anxious rambling to mean “I’m not going to make it please get me away from people”, and dragged him by the hand towards an alleyway that looked mostly secluded. As his fiancé quietly escorted him to privacy, safety, he furiously ignored the continuous spurts of warm urine that were escaping and starting to soak through his pants.

He was eventually pushed gently against a brick wall, Viktor cradling both of his hands, no one else in sight. “You can go, it’s okay.” Viktor interrupted himself to give a calming, caring kiss to the top of the shaking, squirming boy’s head. “No one can see you, you’re safe, let it out.”

Too desperate to think rationally, Yuuri wasted no time in doing just as he said. He gave a long, shaky, relieved sigh, just on the edge of a moan, the pink in his cheeks no longer from the cold as piss flowed freely down his legs, soaking his clothes and puddling on the street. It was less embarrassing, alone like this; he almost found the warmth streaming down his thighs pleasant, pleasurable. The furious blush on Viktor’s cheeks wasn’t helping his odd arousal, either. Yuuri shook it off, telling himself he’d talk about it with him later.

Yuuri shivered lightly as the stream trickled off, his bladder finally emptying, the last of the urine dripping from his wet legs and puddling on the ground. He gave a quiet sigh, managing to look back up at Viktor.

“Uh—” He let out a sudden, sheepish bark of a laugh, rubbing at the tears still on his cheeks. “S-sorry… If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve gone earlier… y-you shouldn’t have to—”

“No, darling, it’s fine.” Viktor gave his fiancé a gentle hug, rocking him slightly back and forth. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t help it. See, here—” Seemingly inspired, he quickly unbuttoned his jacket and tied it smartly around Yuuri’s waist, uncaring of the designer label.

“Viktor…” Yuuri’s voice wobbled softly, a little emotionally overwhelmed. “You freaked out when Makkachin licked the lapel of that last week, how could you…”

“Because you’re more important to me than the money I spent this on.” He gently cupped Yuuri’s chin, tilting his gaze up for a kiss that was sheepishly and gladly accepted. “Don’t be silly, honey—you being happy is what I want to see more than anything.”

the severity of the situation weighs heavy upon her shoulders.  she can’t go in on another assault charge.   not  now.   teeth grit and she crosses arms over her chest , she’d been as cooperative as possible , but the fact of the matter , wa that it was all taking far too long.  with blood swiped across the back of her hand , and the imprint of her wedding ring left in the other woman’s cheek , there was no question about what she had done.  the police man approached her with the caution of someone who knew the biker queen’s reputation , and already does it put her on edge. her groceries are getting hotting with each moment they’re trapped in her car , and each of those passing minutes only serves to aggravate an already annoyed woman.     (     and it’s not as though she’ known for being hospitable with cops   )    

fear had coursed through her veins in an instant when the woman came around the corner , running directly into the motorcycle matriarch.  all she’d seen was the flash of blonde hair , so familiar , so terrifying , that her first had formed and been thrown across the distance between her and the stranger before she can offer any rationalization.   ❛     listen ,   officer   ——  ❜      she’d already forgotten his name.   shit.     ❛    i  really need to get home.  this was an accident.  i apologized to that chick , offered to pay the bills….  ❜

       ❛   i understand that ,  mrs. teller.   however , this isn’t up to her.  we can still choose to press charges , and based on your record…  ❜

groan of exasperation is drawn from her throat and gemma shakes her head.  if she was arrested , they’d find an unregistered sidearm with a shaved serial number within the confines of her purse  as well as  multiple rolled joints.  both of which would be far more serious than an assault charge.    she’s not a woman who begs , but desperation is beginning to hang over her head.  

@carisiisms  – plotted starter.

Emergency Room - Michael Clifford [FLUFF]

Requested - no

Summary~ Clumsy has always been the one word to perfectly describe you so you’re the closest thing that the Emergency Room can get to a regular. And starting conversations with strangers has never been your forte but when you see an unusual sight, even for an ER, you can’t resist asking questions

Word Count - 942

This is the worst it has come to, you think as you wander up the steps of your local ER. Usually you’ve got someone that has forced you to go to the ER after falling down the stairs and hurting your ankle or accidentally tripping and headbutting a wall to give yourself a concussion, but this time you came to the decision yourself. You’d somehow managed to comically slip on a banana peel that had fallen out of the trash can and now you fear you’ve either broken your arm or dislocated your shoulder.

“Good to see you back,” the nurse at reception says. “Or more bad to see you, what is it this time?”

“I think I’ve dislocated my shoulder or something, I’m not sure,” you chuckle gripping your arm that has a scarf to keep it slightly suspended.

“Alright well the doctors are busy tonight but the waiting room is pretty calm so you shouldn’t have too long of a wait,” she tells you. “I’ll put your name down and we’ll get a doctor to call on you when they’re free”

You stand and wander over into the waiting room where you find a corner chair and huddle yourself up with your phone. A few moments later you decide to cast your eyes across the room only to see, in the very opposite corner, a boy with blue hair and a red jumpsuit. His face is severely bludgeoned, being held together by the paper towel he has pressed to his nose, his jumpsuit is torn over the leg and down the chest but you can just see the remnants of a logo that at one point said ‘Thing 1′.

“You’re staring,” you hear him mumble.

“Sorry,” you tear your eyes away.

“No it’s fine, I trust you have a lot of questions as to why there is a bloody guy dressed as ‘Thing 1′ from ‘The Cat In The Hat’ sitting in an ER on a Sunday night,” he chuckles turning to you and taking the paper towel away from his face showing an obviously broken nose.

“Well you answered one question, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out the name of that movie,” you giggle. “I’m Michael”

“[Y/N],” you reply.

“Nice to meet you, I’d shake your hand but I don’t have one that isn’t covered in blood,” he says.

“No worries, I only have one shakable hand as it is,” you laugh. “Mind if I sit closer?”

He shrugs so you move to sit two seats away from him.

“So what happened? Did Thing 2 get sick of people seeing him as the inferior Thing?” you ask.

“Sort of, I kept annoying him until he had enough and punched me, we got into a bit of a scrap and I think I came off worse,” he chuckles. “So what happened to you?”

“I uh, slipped on a banana peel…” you mumble.

He laughs a little harder than probably necessary and then adds, “And I’m the one dressed as a cartoon character”

You laugh too but feel a sudden pain from your shoulder to your collar bone causing you to groan in pain and hunch over.

“Woah, are you okay?” he asks.

“No, ah jesus,” talking manages to hurt even more.

“Hold on I’ll get someone"

He goes to stand but you grab his hand, “No don’t leaveme, I’m scared”

Luckily a nurse is walking past and Michael calls for her to find a doctor or something and you are ushered into the hospital at rapid speed.

As it turns out you had dislocated your shoulder but also managed to fracture your collar bone, the sudden pain was your laughing causing a shard of broken bone to move into a place it shouldn’t have been. You had to be taken into theater for surgery pretty fast, nothing major, just setting the bone in place to heal correctly.

It’s only about an hour after the surgery when you wake up and there by your bed is the blue haired Michael who’s nose is now partly normal looking with a strip of white across it.

“You’re here?” you ask sitting up.

“Yeah, though I had to lie to get in here, if anyone asks I’m your fiance,” he smiles.

“Can I ask why, I mean you look pretty healed and it’s not usual that you wait at the bedside of someone you just met in an Emergency Room,” you point out.

“I was worried, you seemed to be in a lot of pain, plus you gripped my hand so hard that your ring imprinted on my hand so I told myself that if you hadn’t woken up yet I’d leave when the imprint had faded,” he fiddles with his hands.

“Really? I didn’t know I was that strong,let me see,” you grin.

“Oh, it faded half an hour ago but I didn’t have the guts to just walk out on my fake fiance,” he giggles sheepishly and so do you.

Once doctors have given you a once over as well as a sling that isn’t also a scarf, you are allowed to leave, with Michael at your side.

“Uh, listen, [Y/N], I don’t really know how to do this but I figured hat as long as you don’t have some uh….” he fumbles.

“Do you want my number?” you put him at ease.

“Only if you want to,” he quickly adds.

You reach into your bag and find a pen, then, with your wrong hand, you manage to write your phone number on the back of his hand with a ‘call me x’ before skipping off.


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So I finally wrote a small wolfstar drabble based on my soulmate au

He had seen the small circle etched across his mother’s wrist forever unchanged and the dot showing on his father’s that always remained the same. When he was younger he would ask what meeting your soulmate feels like and would be met with the same response every time.

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SQ Ficlet

Another sort-of-story

Power of Attorney

It had all happened so fast, Snow could barely keep up anymore.  First Emma had become, her baby had become the Dark One.  Now Regina was in the hospital and no one was sure if she would survive or not and they wouldn’t even let her in to see the woman.

“But I am family.  I’m her step-daughter.”

The nurse rolled her eyes.  “Not in this realm.  Only family is allowed in ICU.”  She plucked a clip board off of the desk.  “So let me explain.”  The woman’s attitude was positively wretched and her voice dripped with sarcasm and disrespect. “Patient name:  Mills, Regina middle initial X.  Father, Mills,Henry: deceased.  Mother, Mills, Cora: deceased.  Sister, Mills, Zelena institutionalized.  Son, Mills, Henry middle initial D is a minor and not permitted in ICU.  I don’t see any other names.”

Snow threw up her hands, annoyed.  “Well what about Robin?  He is her True Love!”

Tinkerbell, quiet till then, jumped to her feet, “Are you out of your mind!  He’s the reason she’s in here!”  

Henry’s objection of  “He is not going anywhere near mom!” quickly followed.

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Well, Zach got me a promise ring :D

In case you guys haven’t seen one of these before it’s an imprint ring and they come in other messages too. Zach chose always because we always say, “I love you forever and ever and always” and it was just very fitting. I had no idea it was coming because he had told me he didn’t get my promise ring yet and I never even knew what it was to begin with but it arrived at my house on Thursday afternoon and he said tons of cute things and I was sooooooooooo incredibly happy :)

Oh and that’s my new claddagh that he got me too!:D