my dad took pictures of everyone without even knowing who they were

anonymous asked:

What do you think Shiro's backstory is? Do you think he has family back on earth, or is Keith all he has?

At this point, I’m pretty sure Shiro is estranged from his family. If he were just an orphan, then I think his official character bio would have said so–like it did for Keith. So I think there must’ve been a family at some point, but they seem to be out of the picture. There’s also a few things that I think indicates Shiro may have lost his dad. 

And we see this reflected in Sam. In a way, I think he definitely reminds Shiro of his father, or at least ended up being a kind of fatherly figure. When Shiro rescues Matt from the gladiator arena, the last thing he says is, “Take care of your father.” This message sounds deeply personal, like there’s a history there and maybe Shiro was unable to save his own dad at some point. 

This is taken a step further when Shiro decides they can’t afford to waste time looking for Sam and Matt. He’s only convinced when Pidge mentions they’re family, and Shiro just stops and says, “Commander Holt is your father?” before immediately agreeing. So as much as Shiro cares about Sam, he wasn’t willing to risk the mission until he found out that Pidge was trying to save her dad. I really do think that must’ve resonated with Shiro on some level, like he’s been in that position before 

Also, something about this last shot–look at Keith’s face here. He also looks visibly affected. And I mean, we know Keith would give just about anything to be able to find his dad, so I think Shiro also having some kind of troubled past involving his father is very likely. Shiro and Keith are present for this scene instead of Lance and Hunk for a reason. 

Of course, it could also be that maybe something happened and Shiro ended up parting with his dad on bad terms, and it’s something he really regrets. After all, when calming down Pidge, he tells her something her father said instead of giving advice from his own dad. I think that says Shiro was never really all that close with his own father or maybe he just grew up without one. 

And honestly the first red flag for me was how Shiro reacted to being held prisoner for a year. The Kerberos crew was announced dead, and any family he had would’ve been told that. They must’ve mourned him, held a funeral for him. His picture was all over the news alongside the headline Pilot error

And yet?? Shiro never expresses any desire to see his family again or return to Earth like the other paladins–despite the fact that he’s been gone the longest. On top of that, he never even once asks anyone for news on his family–you’d think he’d talk to Keith or Pidge at least. What person is declared dead for a year and then doesn’t think about how their loved ones must feel? Doesn’t want to go home to them and tell them not to worry, that they’re okay. 

Shiro’s behavior is bizarrely abnormal, there’s just no way to account for that kind of response unless Shiro was either already distant from his family or absolutely dreading going home–and this is also very possible, as Shiro’s changed, he’s not the person he was before. He has his trauma, his PTSD–he believes the galra have turned him into a monster. He has to go home and try to explain why he was gone so long and lost his crew and has only one arm and his hair’s gone white. So maybe Shiro’s just terrified because all sense of normalcy would be gone and there’s no sense trying to return to it. Shiro’s not like Lance, Hunk, or Pidge–he can’t just go back. But as understandable as that would be, I more so think that Shiro doesn’t have very much to return to in the first place.

So far, the closest thing Shiro really has to a home is Keith. When he crashes back to Earth, he never asks about his family or tries to at least visit his house before he leaves. But I think it says a lot that Shiro does end up back at Keith’s home. And Keith is the one who offered him his little shack as shelter, has a warm heart-to-heart where he welcomes him back. This is Shiro’s homecoming. And given that the shack has always been a symbol of home for Keith, we can infer that Shiro will always have a place there as well. 

I think it’s very telling that there’s an episode where everyone but Shiro and Keith express wanting to go home or find their families–Shiro never voices an opinion on the matter. He’s completely silent and only steps in to try to calm Keith down and settle things with Pidge. But I think we get even more insight to how Shiro feels from Stayin’ Alive in season 2. Everyone’s reminiscing about their fond memories, and they all look so happy. But then there’s Shiro, with his back turned away from everyone. He looks pretty deep in thought, like something’s really bothering him 

And when he does turn back to face the group, he says this:

You realize once we defeat Zarkon, the universe won’t need Voltron anymore.” Just as a refresher here, Shiro was basically the most excited about being a paladin–“Defenders of the universe huh? That’s got a nice ring to it.” Shiro found a purpose, and he took pride in it. He felt like, even as much as the galra have tormented him and tore him apart, he finally found a place where he belonged

And that’s why so much of his fear is wrapped up in this idea that he’s not worthy of the job–“Did you ever think a monster like you could be a Voltron paladin?” Fighting the good fight and saving lives meant something to Shiro. His connection with the Black lion and having a team were both very healing for him. He doesn’t want to lose that 

And it only gets worse because everyone else automatically has something planned, they all have something in mind after Voltron. And they all want to go home or return to their families, but Shiro says nothing. Because there is no after for him, nothing back on Earth waiting for him. After Pidge says, “I could search for my family,” Keith adds, “I guess I could look for mine.” But Shiro never says anything about his plans for the future. He doesn’t have any 

And Shiro looks pretty tense this whole time. When he talks about how if everything goes according to plan this will all be over–you really get the feeling he doesn’t want it to end. Like being a paladin is this amazing dream and he just doesn’t want to wake up. 

Even when Kuron believes he’s dying, the only significant memories that resurface are all to do with Team Voltron. Nothing related to his own background or family. And the fact that Keith welcoming him back is the first thing he sees says a lot–that’s home to him 

our little family pt.1 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader 

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au 

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever. 

Parts: 1 2

“Jieun-ah, please.” Jimin sighed, as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time making Jimin let out a soft groan in exasperation.

“Jieun-ah…” Jimin pleaded.

“I don’t want to go to school daddy.” Jieun said softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly as Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his little girl before him.

Sighing, he grabbed her hands and put on a large grin, “Jieun-ah, It’ll be fun!” he tried cheering, “Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?” Jieun asked, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.

Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, “Daddy’s too old now, but if anything happens I’ll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it’ll be great.”

“Pinky promise?” Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin’s face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, “I promise baby.”

“Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!” you smiled happily as the kids walked one by one into your class, all their faces with expressions that varied, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.

Oh children. 

“There you go Jieun-ah, I’ll pick you up in a couple hours okay?”

Keep reading

Guess Who’s Back

Writer - @damndescendants 

Requested - nope. Send in request!

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – (Y/N) is the daughter of Dr. Facilier and is one of the Villain Kids who go to Auradon but when Mal returns to the Isle she goes with Ben, Evie, Carlos, and Jay to get her back when they run into her boyfriend, Harry Hook

Warning(s) - threats, if you squint harm/harassment hinted and mentioned, protective 

Originally posted by adisneylover92things

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Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.

Masterlist linked in bio.


The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.

“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”

They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.

They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.

It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.

She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.

He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.

Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.

She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.

For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.

But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.

He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.

And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.  

His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.

His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.

He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.

“You never told me she was going to be here.“

His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.

When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.

She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.

By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.

So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.

She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”

Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.

“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”

Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.

And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.

But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.

“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”

Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.

“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”

Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.

“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”

Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.

Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”

Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.

Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.

And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.

“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”

Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.

Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.

“Shut up, Gem.“

She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.

“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”

No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.

“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.

“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”

Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.

Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.

When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.

When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.

He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.

“Hey, stranger.”

Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.

He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.

His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.

“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”

She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.

“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”

Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”

But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.

“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.

He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.

Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.

“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.

Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“

“Kendall?”

Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.

Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.

This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.

“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”

Last night.

Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.

“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”

She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?

She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle. 

“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.

His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.

Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”

“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.

“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.

“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”

He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.

When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.

“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.

She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.

“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”

The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.

“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”

She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.

“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“

“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.

She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.

“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”

Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.

Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.

“Mum—“

“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.

“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”

Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.

She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.

He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.

“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?” 

He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.

“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”

Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.

“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”

His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”

She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“


“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.

“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“

Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.

“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”

His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.

Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.

His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.

“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”

She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.

“Yes, please.

His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.

Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.

They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.

She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“

Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.

There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.

“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”

His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.

“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.

“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”

His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.

“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.

He kisses her again.

“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“

Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.

“Trust me, I always knew.”

part 2 of 3rd grade teacher nursey?? yes?? ok

(part one)

  • calls all of his kiddos “little bro” regardless of gender. the occasional “little dude” or “little man”
  • the first time he wears a short sleeve dress shirt to school all the kids are obsessed with his tattoo
    • “mr n has a forever drawing on his arm :000″
  • hes the ultimate kid whisperer. anything these kids throw at him? hes got it covered
    • kids are fighting about who gets the 64 pack of crayons. jeremy got them yesterday and now he wants them again?? theres like 4 other kids who want to use them jeremy dont be a dick
    • nursey’s like “can i give you guys a special project? i need a big drawing to put up on the wall. but you all have to help and you all need to use the crayons”
    • jeremy, immediately distributing the crayons and getting a big ass piece of paper: ok mr n!!!!!!

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Talks Machina (Episode 88 spoilers!)

Highlights from this week’s episode:

  • This week’s pre-show message from Denise: “Brian is a puppet and I’m pulling the strings.”
  • Overwatch mention! Brian shout-outs D.Va, Marisha’s all about Symmetra, Matt breaks out the McCree voice.
  • 1PM Saturday, much of CR will be playing Mansions of Madness on the stream, and Matt will be guesting on a show at 11AM as well.
  • Brian: Our special guest, Gil Ramirez. Marisha: (whispers) Don’t fuck us, Gil.
  • Gil was helping out in the twitch chat from episode one. He’s also been smithing for sixteen years!
  • Gil uses liquid mercury to balance his steel dice. Travis: …you just have liquid mercury hanging around?
  • Gil and Taliesin both have a periodic table collection.
  • Gil takes off his button-down to reveal a t-shirt that just reads “Don’t fuck me, Gil.” with “Dammit Gil!” on the back.
  • Gil pulls out cards that read “Malks Tachina” that are all sick burns on Brian.
  • 4:46:50 total gameplay time last week. VM had 936 total HP at the start of the kraken battle, ended with 70 total HP.
  • A fan points out the similarities between the kraken fight and the Kobayashi Maru in Star Trek–an unwinnable fight to see how you do under great pressure. Marisha points out that nobody is expected to do the Aramente alone, but they’re never told that explicitly, so Keyleth’s been figuring that out, and that was one of the big lessons here. When she decided to planeshift out, she had to trust that Grog was going to finish it without her. She’s been moving beyond her previous urge to be self-sacrificial.
  • Matt points out that if Keyleth had stayed, Grog probably would’ve stayed until the end, too, and things would’ve gone a lot worse.
  • Matt wasn’t playing the kraken to full intelligence (his argument being that the rules-as-written version is better suited to being a full-arc villain kind of deal), but if they’d decided to talk to it, it probably would’ve stalled long enough to get everyone exactly where it wanted them.
  • Travis on Tary not using Luck to reroll: Either he is the most genius, maniacal character in a long-running arc… or he just rolled shitty dice because Gil fucked him.
  • Keyleth would’ve rather failed the Aramente than kill the kraken or lose her party.
  • A question on screen flashes twice. Laura (who isn’t even on the show this week) immediately tweets “Two flashes!! Free Denise.”
  • Grog was trying to abide by Keyleth’s rules of not killing the thing, but his whole priority was getting Vax out, because he realized that not getting him out while he was unconscious might’ve meant losing his body for good. Matt points out that it worked out well that it was always Grog getting eaten, because he was more likely than most of the other party members to deal enough damage to get out.
  • Why didn’t the water ashari let Korren and Keyleth know Vilya was suspected dead? Matt starts to answer, then admits it’s mostly just to maintain narrative drama, because that’s how storytelling works.
  • Gil wonders whether one of the lodestones could be Keyleth’s mom. Marisha: …my mom is octopoo?
  • Grog’s decision on leaving Tary mostly boiled down to “…eh.” Grog didn’t mind too much that Percy made him go back for Tary, because he didn’t feel too strongly about leaving him behind, but there might be consequences once Friends wears off.
  • Keyleth would’ve definitely still planeshifted out if Grog and Vax’s positions had been reversed. She trusted that Vax would’ve managed to get out, too.
  • Travis’ wise words on the Raven Queen: “Didn’t she need the blood jacuzzi to get the thing going?”
  • Travis thinks Grog would be interested in participating in Vax’s ritual.
  • Travis was stoked for Vax to join the Dead Club, but he has no idea how it’s going to go because of the Raven Queen.
  • Matt re: people yelling about revivify/resurrection no matter the outcome: “I… mostly don’t care. I’m still a sensitive boy.”
  • Brian brings back the intro to the first episode, in which Matt points out that this is the continuation of a home-game and number-crunching shouldn’t be the priority. Of course, Critrolestats is an exception: “They keep track of the numbers we like.”
  • Brian: “Discussions are great, and we love talking about the show even if we disagree… but when it gets to be this weird thing where people are… it’s like, guys, you’re kind of embarrassing yourself. Like, give me a break, dad. Maybe intense scrutiny of a D&D game that’s on the internet isn’t the best way to live your life.”
  • Travis: “I’ll never go on [reddit]. It requires reading, right?”
  • Matt thinks the kraken was probably watching the party for a while, and then Tary’s natural one was a focus point. If they hadn’t failed that challenge, they might’ve had to fight it as they were escaping.
  • The one spell Marisha forgot to write down on her spell sheet was Freedom of Movement, which would’ve been incredibly clutch in the fight. Matt forgot about it, too.
  • Matt points out that everyone had an extremely stressful week leading up to that episode. Brian mentions that he’s known everyone for a while, now, and they all generally act the same on-screen as they do off-screen, so they’re not gonna be putting on an act. Sometimes you just get a bit of a slog playing D&D when everyone’s exhausted, but it can still be fun as long as people aren’t going over every decision with a magnifying glass.
  • SURPRISE ASHLEY WITH AMAZING HAT ON AFTER-DARK

After dark:

  • The first shot after the break is just a close-up of Trinket.
  • Matt to Travis, in one of the best out-of-context quotes thus far: “So what you’re saying is that your deviantart is full of vore?”
  • If Grog had an intelligence of 20 for 24 hours, he’d probably go down to Percy’s workshop and build something.
  • Matt ran a session pre-stream that was just Pike and Vax, in which the two of them had to fight a chimera. There was also one that was just Vax, Scanlan, and Pike.
  • If Grog had been left behind and died, Ashley thinks Pike would’ve pulled a Scanlan and left the party, then would’ve gone to go live under the sea until she found him, and would’ve kept his body until she got True Resurrection, “even if it took a hundred years”, so she could bring him back.
  • Matt re: Keyleth being the only one who hasn’t died: “No, there’s a reason for that. Because she’s my fiancee and I give her special treatment.” Marisha: “Don’t say that even in jest!” Matt: “No, if that were true, I wouldn’t sleep on the couch as often.” Marisha: “They’ll believe that, too! They’ll actually think that’s true!”
  • Ten or higher on that saving throw and Grog would’ve died in the kraken. Matt rolled a nine (which is why he tweeted the picture).
  • Marisha’s biggest fear re: ways for her character to die was tripping and falling in lava, which just about happened, so almost anything else would’ve been okay in comparison. Brian: “Keyleth died doing what she loved: a series of errors.” Marisha: “Failing.”
  • Travis’s Xbox gamertag is MeatyAlbatross.
Delta (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 8  A/B/O

A/N: HEY GUYS! It’s finally here! This is definitely one of my favorite chapters. Hopefully I’ll be posting part 9 later on tonight (I live in the us so it’ll be a bit later for y'all lol) but I’ve made it halfway at least!! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Warnings: Minor character death. Swearing. Hella angsty.

Series Masterlist

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Essays in Existentialism: Footy

International Soccer Player Star Lexa au is and forever will be my dream

The heat rolled off of the pavement in the afternoon. Stagnant and ornery, it listlessly bullied everyone in the streets until they were just as uncomfortable and oppressed, just as mad, just as sweaty and tired and beat up like the harsh summer day. The bustle of the street didn’t stop though, despite the heat, despite the heaviness. Instead, people milled about as best the could, fanning themselves with their hands or papers or ducking into stores, eating ice cream, and failing against nature itself.

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I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twelve

Summary: You fly out for Asylum and meet up with the rest of the cast, only to find out that you have to do your first ever solo panel in front of two thousand fans
Words: 4.4k (+ tweets)
Jared x Reader x Gen, Misha, Kim, Briana, Danneel, Jensen, JJ
Warnings: smut-ish phone calls, mild angst, fluff
Beta: @blacksiren

IKYW Masterpost

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Your name: submit What is this?

In-flight wifi was a God sent gift on the flight to London.

Despite appearing calm and feeling tired, you couldn’t get to sleep for the first few hours due to anxious energy.

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Think Outside the Lovesquare Day 1: Wrong Number AU

(Just a note to clarify, I elected to use bolded text to indicate Adrien’s texts and italicized text to indicate the person texting him.)


Hey, are you back in France yet?

Adrien stared down at his phone. He wasn’t entirely sure who was texting him, but he could only guess it was someone working for his father. Maybe Nathalie needed a new number and hadn’t had the chance to tell him yet. He shrugged and replied.

Just got back today. I should be home soon.

How’s work?

Adrien raised a brow. Nathalie had been with him until the last two days, so she already had a pretty clear idea on how most of the work had gone. Maybe she just wanted to know about the last shoot.

Fine. Everyone seemed pretty happy with it.

Cool. Are you free this weekend?

Adrien checked his schedule, a bit confused that Nathalie was asking him, instead of the other way around.

I should be, yeah.

After all, she’d promised him a few days off after the grueling three weeks of travel and photo shoots and media attention. His calendar was indeed free aside from a fencing lesson he’d chosen to keep.

Wanna meet up?

Now he knew something was wrong. Nathalie wouldn’t ask

Wait. Is this Nathalie?

What? No, this is Nino.

After a moment, the mystery person added on.

I sat behind you last year.

Adrien frowned. So, it wasn’t Nathalie after all. That didn’t explain who it was, however.

Sat behind me? Where?

In class. Remember?

Now it was beginning to make sense. Adrien flopped back onto his bed and stared up at the screen. It really should have been obvious. After all, Nathalie and Chloe were the only ones who texted him.

I think you have the wrong number.

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surprise

thanks to @ruintoronto for giving me some inspo to write some dad!shawn even though this legitimately sucks and it didn’t turn out how i hoped it would also ik it isn’t exactly what you wanted so im sorry 

feedback always makes my day <3 

also highly highly unedited 


“Mummy look at the clouds!” your 4 year old daughter Ava yelled, earning a quiet shush from you as she continued to stare out the small window of the plane. “But mum I wanna show Vicky!” she whined, attempting to reach over you to gain the attention of her twin sister who was happily watching a movie with her headphones on. You watched as Ava tried to get her sister’s attention multiple times but each time she called her name, she was ignored.

“She’s trying to watch a show baby,” you said “Why don’t you watch a movie on my iPad?” you handed her your iPad along with some headphones but she refused. “What about getting some sleep?” you suggested, earning another head shake from the little girl. Ava was a stubborn girl like you and when she wanted something she won’t give up until she gets it and right now, she wants to talk to her sister who was in the seat next to you, trying to watch a movie.

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Sketch || Jughead Jones

Request from @carmineofmidgardHey !!i was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts: Art is to console those who are broken by life.

A/N: This my first oneshot ever written! I hope this fulfills your request!

Gif by @juptern

—————

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” -Vincent Van Gogh

Saying you’ve had a tough life was an understatement. Your father had left the family when you were very little to be with his secretary leaving you and your mom alone. Your mom, while you adored her, kept pushing for you to become a doctor. She wanted you to have a successful and self-sustaining career; one that she never got to have. You on the other hand wanted to be an artist. Ever since your dad left, you loved to draw pictures of fantasy. Castles, dragons, princesses, and princes. Anything that could draw your mind away from your mom crying at night and less frequent phone calls from your happy father was a plus. Eventually, your drawings evolved into portraits. Well, secret portraits. You drew almost everyone in the school, but no one more than Jughead Jones III. Jughead fascinated you, and truth be told, you had a crush on him. How you could crush on someone that you knew nothing about and who didn’t even know your name was anyone’s best guess. As far as you could tell, the only thing you and Jughead had in common was the fact that you were both loners. That’s it.

You and Jughead had off fifth period and you both spent that time in the library, but not sitting next to each other or even near each other. Unfortunately, Reggie and his group also hung out in the library. It was an average Friday and you had just sat down in your chair in the library when Jughead came in, sitting in a chair across the room from you. Just as you pulled your sketchbook to draw, he pulled out his laptop to write. What he was writing, you had no idea. You began to draw the simple outlines of his face, gently moving your pen along the paper. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows and you attempted to capture his facial structure and his emotions. You were so immersed with your drawing that you didn’t notice Reggie peering of your shoulder wearing a wolfish grin. He waited for the librarian to leave the room to copy some papers before he stood up and made his way over to you. Within the span of a second, Reggie quickly pulled the sketchbook from your hands, loudly proclaiming,

“Well, what do we have here, Y/N?”

Everyone in the library looked up from what they were doing, including Jughead. In a flash, you were on your feet, attempting to get your sketchbook back from Reggie.

“Give it back, Reggie!”

Reggie chortled as he looked through your sketches. He had struck gold.

“Everyone, look! Y/N’s got a thing for Norman Bates over here!”

Reggie held up your sketches for everyone to see. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses and tears began to well up in your eyes as everyone began to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked you could see people laughing. Then you made eye contact with Jughead. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He was looking at you intensely, but he wasn’t glaring. There was a look of concern there as well. It was too much for you to bear and you quickly ran out of the library, down the hallway, and out of the school. Knowing you couldn’t go home without your mother knowing you were skipping class, you began the trek to Pop’s.

Pop knew you were upset the moment you walked into the diner. You were always so exuberant, always saying hello and asking him about his family first chance you got. But now? You were silent. Pop looked over at you and smiled softly.

“You want the usual?”

You nodded and sat in one of the booths, your back facing the door. Pop came over with a chocolate milkshake.

“It’s on me.” Pop said and winked.

You smiled gratefully at him and slowly sipped the milkshake, the familiar taste bringing you some relief. Then you remembered you left your backpack in the library. Your sketchbook. Reggie probably still had it. He was probably running copies of your sketches of Jughead to put up all over the school to humiliate you as much as he could. You felt the hot sting of tears coming back as you remembered the laughs and Jughead’s stare and quickly wiped them away. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, just thinking about the day’s events before a jingle sounded out around the diner as the front door opened. You didn’t pay much attention to it, swirling your straw around the almost empty glass before you heard something being placed down on the floor beside you. You looked to your side and saw your backpack along with a figure standing right next to you. You knew those black pants and shoes. You froze as you realized who it was and slowly looked up, making eye contact for the second time that day with Jughead Jones III who had your sketchbook in his hand.

“I believe this is yours,” he said as he handed it to you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shakily took the sketchbook back.

“Y/N, right?”

You nodded.

“Yes.”

Your quiet voice was raw from crying and Jughead took notice. He gestured to the seat in front of you.

“Can I sit?”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. With a quiet “thanks,” he took a seat and the two of you were silent for a moment. You swallowed again. You had to say something.

“How did you know where I was?”

You mentally smacked yourself. Really, out of everything you could’ve said, that’s what your brain came up with? Jughead raised his eyebrows at you.

“I didn’t actually. I came here because I was gonna grab a bite to eat before dropping your stuff off at your house.”

Your cheeks became bright red as you imagined Jughead in your house. Not that you’ve fantasized about that way too many times.

“Well, um, thank you. For giving me back my sketchbook and backpack and all,” you said. “How did you get them back?”

You remembered Reggie’s mean laugh as he held the sketchbook above your head and flinched at the memory. Jughead chuckled at your question.

“It wasn’t easy, let’s just say that.”

You smiled for the first time since the morning and looked down.

“They’re really good,” Jughead said.

You looked up at him inquisitively.

“Your sketches I mean.”

Your heart plunged to your stomach again as you remembered his stare across the room. You looked down again.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It probably looks like I’m some weird stalker or something.”

You were silent as you waited for his response.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Jughead said and you looked up at him again, confused by his nonchalant response. “I was kinda hoping you were. Would’ve made a great storyline for my novel.”

He smirked at you and you, realizing he was joking, smiled along with him. Jughead pointed at your empty glass.

“Can I buy you another milkshake?”

You smiled.

“I’d like that.”

—————

A/N: I hope that was okay! Let me know what you thought!

Moon, Stars, and Sun

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Word Count: 1,577

Request: Yes.  -Leave requests here

Warnings: none my sensitive loves

Summary: Anon asked:  can you do a reid x reader where the reader has a son from when she was raped and her and spence have been dating a while and the biological father is dead and she asks spencer what to tell her son when he starts asking about who his dad is and spencer sees it as the perfect time to propose since he was planning on it anyway and the next day, emily sees the ring and freaks out with joy and tells garcia and jj and the rest of the team?

Originally posted by bau-obsessed

You curled your knees up to your chest, hugging yourself tight.  You had just gotten off the phone with Hotch, and he broke the news that Daniel Gunther, the father of your child, was dead.  He died that evening in his prison cell, and although you were relieved that your rapist was gone for good, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for Charlie, your son.  He was the moon, stars, and sun in your eyes and you didn’t know what you were ever going to tell him when he asked who his father was.  

Although he wasn’t old enough to understand much about it yet, you knew he would eventually ask who his real father was, since you met Spencer well after he was born.  He was bound to know that he wasn’t his real dad.

Sighing, you turned the TV on in Spencer’s bedroom.  You had moved there with Charlie a few months back since you’ve been dating for a while.  To your relief, both of the men in your life loved each other immensely, and that just gave you a truly warm feeling in your heart anytime you thought about either of them.  Spencer may not be his dad, but he was the perfect father, and that is all you could ask for.

You uncurled your legs and stretched them out in front of you on the bed, focusing your attention back to the TV.

“He’s finally asleep,” you heard a soft voice say from the door.  You looked over to see Spencer entering the room and your heart skipped a beat, the love you had for the man evident every time you saw him.  “That kid has got so much energy.”

“I know.  It’s a miracle when you get him to bed any earlier than midnight,” you said.  Your voice was softer than it usually was, and Spencer could tell.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, sitting on the bed next to you.

You shook your head and turned off the TV.  “I just got a call from Hotch.  Daniel’s dead.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly at the news.  “When?”

“This evening.  They found him dead in his cell.  The guards think it was a suicide,” you replied, looking down at your hands folded in your lap.

“Wow,” was all he said.  After a few moments of silence, he grabbed your hands and you looked up at him.  “What’s the problem?” he asked gently.

“Charlie.  His dad is dead.  What do I tell him?” you asked.

“Well, you don’t have to tell him anything right now.”

“But he’ll start asking questions, Spence.  He knows you aren’t his actual dad and he’ll want to know about him.  I’ve tried to come up with a million lies to tell him about his dad, and I know that when the time comes, I won’t have the strength to lie to him,” you said.  You surprisingly weren’t crying.  Your voice was soft but rushed.  He knew you were trying to be strong for your son.  That you would do anything for him.  And right now, in that moment, he knew he would do the same.  Charlie was moon, sun, and stars in his eyes, too, and looking at you in that moment, with your hair unwashed and wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties, he knew you and Charlie were going to be a part of him for the rest of his life.  

“Stay here for just a second,” he said to you, getting up and walking out the door.  You had no clue what he was doing, but you watched him walk out the door and waited until he returned moments later, with a hand behind his back.  You narrowed your eyes at him as he sat in front of you on the bed, cross legged, his crazy mismatched socks touching your own bare feet.

“I get that you’re scared about Charlie, but the truth is, he’s a really strong kid.  There are plenty of things you can tell him about who his father was and what he did for a living, really the possibilities are endless.  But why don’t we wait until he is old enough to truly understand?  When he asks who his father is, just say it’s me.  Because as of right now, it is, isn’t it?  I mean you both live with me, and I love you both and I see us as a family, don’t you see us as a family?”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face as you nodded vigorously at him.  You did see the three of you as a family.

“And I think the best way to secure that picture,” he said, bringing forward his hidden hand.  He was holding a small red velvet box.  “Is to ask you this question.”  His voice was shaking, as was his hands as it opened the box to reveal the radiant cut diamond ring.  You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding your shy smile.  “Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.  Make me the luckiest and happiest man on earth by allowing me to be in you and your son’s lives for the rest of mine.  Will you marry me?”  Tears began to fall from his eyes, too.  You looked at the ring, small and delicate, but bright and beautiful.  All you could manage was more nodding and a choked out yes.

The smile on Spencer’s face was priceless.  In a hurry, he took the ring out of its box and put it on your finger, holding onto your shaking hands with his.

“I love you so much, Spence,” you said through the happiest tears you’ve ever cried.

“I love you, too, y/n,” he replies in a croaky voice.  He pulled you into his arms, enveloping your body in his.  And that night, without the words, Spencer showed you just how much he loved you.


“Briefing in five,” JJ said, passing by your desk that Monday.  You and Spencer kept quiet over the weekend, keeping the news of your engagement to yourselves and Charlie.  Going into the bullpen that day, you managed to keep your left hand occupied as not to notify anyone of your news just yet.

“Hey, y/n.  I heard about Daniel,” Prentiss said, coming up to your desk.

“Yeah,” is all you said.  I mean, what could you say.  Without thinking, you ran your hand through your hair, flashing your ring to a gaping Emily.

“Um, what is that?” she asked.  You quickly hid your hand behind your head.

“What is what?” you asked nervously, pretending to scratch.  For a profiler, you were bad at lying.  Emily grabbed your hand and pulled it to her, eyes widening at the diamond upon your finger.

“Oh.  My.  God!” she yelled just as Garcia walked by.

“What are you screaming about that I am not included in?” she asked.  Emily shoved your hand out to let Garcia get a good look at it.  “Oh my god!” she said, grabbing your hand too.

“Guys, please,” you said grinning.  “We need to get ready for the briefing.”

“When did this happen?” Emily asked with a smile.

“Friday night.  He said he was going to do it later this month but he just couldn’t help it I guess,” you told them, grinning even bigger.  

“Aww.  My heart is so happy for you two,” Garcia said.  Her eyes were still on your ring, probably calculating how much money it costed.

“Am I interrupting something little ladies?” Morgan said as he walked up to the group.  Penelope grabbed your hand and stuck it out to him.

“Reid proposed Friday.  You’re boy didn’t even tell you, did he?” she asked him with a smirk.

“Guys, we need to- oh my god,” JJ said.  “Did Spence propose?”

“Well, I guess the cat is just totally out of the bag,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?” Everyone turned their heads to Spencer, sitting at his desk with a fresh cup of coffee, oblivious.

Gingerly, you hold up your hand to flash the ring to him.  He pressed his lips together in obvious embarrassment.  You shot him a look of apology as you knew he wanted to be the one to tell everyone.

“How did you propose to your girl without telling me?” Morgan asked, but he was still smiling.

“Guys,” you all heard Hotch from the briefing room.  With that one word, everyone straightened up and made their way to the room where him and Rossi were waiting.

“JJ, mind telling me why all of you are late?” Hotch asked, handing out the files for her in frustration.

“Pretty boy asked y/n to marry him,” Morgan answered for her.  That made Hotch look over at you and Spencer in surprise.

You shrugged and held up your hand once again to show David and Hotch the diamond.

“Well, I say that as soon as this investigation is closed, we celebrate with a few drinks and dinner,” Emily said taking a seat.

“Congrats,” is all Hotch said to you two, but you could see the hint of a smile on his lips.

“I’m buying,” Rossi added before turning to the board to listen to JJ for the briefing.  You looked over at Spencer with a wide smile, and he smiled back at you, grabbing your hand across the table to hold.

You were absolutely the happiest woman on earth.

Elephant in the Room

Combination of Two Prompts: How would Batmom react to Teen Titans Robin and him not being in contact with them for so long? What would happen if she showed up at the tower? AND Dick calls Bruce and Batmom dad and mom for the first time after being adopted.

Words: 1745

AN: This was a pretty long one, but filled with fluffy feels, and I love it!!!


Your son is one of the best of his generation, and in your mother’s eye, the best. You understand why he left, you support his choice of independence, but an entire year without a call is simply too much. He stayed in contact for the first two, a random call here, and email, there, but then suddenly there was nothing.

          The only thing that let you know he was still alive were the news reports. Bruce, of course, follows every morsel of news. Though he’d never say it out loud, he knows that things need to be fixed.  You’d be willing to bet the Wayne family fortune that Dick knows the exact same thing.

          You can’t help but smile, after all, that’s what you’re here for; to beat sense into those stubborn heads. The security system is the exact same as the Batcave’s, and you’re surprised to find that your codes work.

          You let yourself in, and one quick hack into the system tells you that no one is there. So you wander, you take in the sights, and look around at the home your son has built for himself. You smile when you find his room. He’s changed his uniform a bit. There are no photos in obvious places or any real identifying marks.

          You leave the room for the common room and take a seat on the couch. You pull the photo album out and just wait. When the sound of footsteps and laughter sounds, you slip on the mask that’s needed; it actually goes rather nicely with your outfit.

          More than just his team strolls through the doors, it seems like every super powered teen in existence is there and Dick just stops at the sight of you. You stand up, and say, “I didn’t realize you’d be in the middle of a party.”

          He stiffens a bit and asks, “What are you doing here?” His voice is a bit hesitant.

          You grab your bag, and approach him. The closer you get the more you realize just how much he’s grown. You smile and say, “We need to talk.” He glances back at his friends and back to you, you just say, “I’ll wait in your room, I already know the way.”

          He watches you slide through the doors and Starfire asks, “Robin, who is that woman?”

          His voice is tight with emotion when he says “She’s my mother.”

          There’s a collective statement of “You have a mother?”

          Dick just glances at Roy and Wally, the only two not surprised and says, “Of course I have a mother.” Before he walks out of the room.

          He finds you sitting on the bed, sans mask. Before he can say a word you say, “No masks, you know the rules.”

          He doesn’t fight you on it, just removes his mask. You smile and open your arms. Sure enough he slides right into them. His head goes to your lap, and your fingers run through his hair. When the sobs come you know something happened, that there was a reason he hadn’t called.

          You let him cry, because sometimes everyone needs to, and you’d be willing to bet that your baby is long overdue. When he’s done, he slides on to the bed and tells you everything. He tells you about being held against his will by Slade, being forced to do horrible things, and then he tells you about the Brotherhood of Evil, and finally about Trigon.

          You listen as he pours out every pent up emotion, and when he’s done you don’t say anything about it. Instead you start on your own story, “Do you remember when you first came to live at the manor?”

          His brow furrows, “Of course.”

          You smile and remove a stuffed elephant from your bag, his eyes go wide at the sight of it. “You were so little and scared, and man oh man, did you remind me of Bruce. You two were the same age you know, when you lost your parents. You didn’t know what to make of us, and we weren’t really sure what to make of you to be honest. At that point we’d only been responsible for ourselves.”

          Dick smirks, “And all of Gotham.”

          You smile, as your hand strokes over the elephants worn head, “We’d never planned on kids, but when we saw you after that show, it hit us, you were ours. And then you started to grow, and you took on the family business with your dad, and I was just amazed, at how lucky we were to be blessed with a kid like you.”

          “You always made sure to keep my birth parents in the picture though. You’d talk about them with me, you’d take me to visit their graves whenever I wanted to. You even had that portrait made.”

          You grin, “That was all your dad, he didn’t want you to feel like we were replacing them.”

          “You didn’t I just got lucky  and got to have two sets of parents.”

          You smile, and there’s a moment of silence, “He misses you, you know.” Dick doesn’t say anything. “He bookmarks every newspaper article on you saving the day. Even has a subscription to the local paper. He’s very proud.”

          “He wouldn’t be proud if he knew what happened.” You smile a bit and he just groans, “How in the world does he know?”

          You smile, “He saw the footage from the top of the Wayne tower, you were stealing from.”

          “He didn’t come.”

          “He was on his way, already tracked Slade’s headquarters down and everything, when it suddenly blew up, he knew that your team had made things right. The Brotherhood of Evil was a learning experience too, and you saved the world from Trigon. When it comes down to it, you’ve done a lot of good Dick. And you’ve made a lot of friends too.”

          He smiles, “It’s the bi-yearly get together. Pizza party.”

          You groan, “Please tell me you at least eat some healthy things.”

          He smirks, “I make Alfred proud every once in awhile.”

          “Good.”

          You pass him the elephant and he smiles and you say, “I never thought you’d leave her behind.”

          He shrugs, “I outgrew her.”

          You just smile, “When you first came to live with us you refused to let her go. Took her everywhere, for that first year.”

          Dick just smiles, “You guys homeschooled me for that first year. I didn’t have to let her go.”

          You laugh, “Still, you took her to all the Wayne foundation events, to restaurants, when we’d visit your dad at work. You even insisted that she be buckled in. You also insisted on taking her to that theme park. I was against it, I just knew she’d get put down somewhere, but Bruce insisted that everything would be fine.”

          “I’d been with you guys for about eight months at that point, I was at the tail end of my Robin training.”

          You nod, “Sure enough you left her there. You were in tears, you kept saying I have to have her, we have to get her back, she’s family. And then at some point you look up at me and Bruce and you said, ‘Please Mommy, please Daddy, we have to go search for her.’ That was the first time you called us Mom and Dad. It wouldn’t become a regular thing until a few months later, but in that moment your dad and I knew we’d move heaven and earth to make you happy.”

          Dick just smiles, “That was the first time he took me out as Robin. He called it the case of the missing elephant. He helped me track her down. Someone had thrown her in the trash on top of some nachos.”

          You smile, “I had to hand wash her, and then throw her in the washing machine three times to get all that cheese off. It’s amazing she doesn’t have any stains.”

          There’s a moment of silence before he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in contact.”

          You pull him in for a hug, “It’s okay, baby boy. You can make it up by coming to dinner this Friday.”

          “Mom, I don’t know if I’m …”

          You cut him off, “He misses you Dick. You’re his son, and whatever that stupid argument was about three years ago, it’s forgotten.”

          “He really wants to see me?”

          You smile, “He talks about you all the time, how proud he is of what you’ve accomplished.”

          He smiles and says, “I’ll be there.”

          “Good, you can meet your new brother.”

          His eyes go wide, “You had a, but the papers didn’t say anything about …”

          You smirk, “His name is Jason, Bruce found him trying to take the wheels off the Batmobile. He’s in training right now.”

          Dick smiles, “Good, Batman needs a Robin, and I’ve been thinking it might be time to change things up. New identity for a new chapter and all that.”

          You lean down and kiss the top of his head, “As long as Dick Grayson remains that sweet, caring, and noble boy that I’ve always known, I think that sounds wonderful.”

          He kisses your cheek, “I’ll see you Friday, Mom.”

          You smile and leave his room, slipping on the mask again before you go. Waiting outside the door are all the teen heroes. You smile and say, “Speedy, Kid Flash, you have his back right?”

          Wally just grins and says, “Always Batmom, you know that.”

          You turn to the rest of his immediate team, “Thank you for taking such good care of my son. It’s good to see he’s made excellent friends.” They’re too stunned to say anything else. You leave the tower without another word. You reach home several hours later, to find Bruce waiting up for you despite the hour.

          “Jason asleep?” you ask.

          He just smiles and says, “Yep, he and Alfred baked cookies all day, and you know what a task master Alfred is when it comes to his kitchen.” He pauses before asking, “How’s our oldest son?”

          “Coming to dinner on Friday.”

          “He’s okay though?”

          You nod, “The picture of health, seems like he made some pretty good friends, too.”

Bruce just smiles and says, “Thank God.”

          You grab his hand, “Come on Caped Crusader, time for bed.”

          He come with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and says, “Bed sounds absolutely divine.”

Happy Accident - Auston Matthews

 "you love me but you don’t know it yet / everything is just an accident; a happy accident"

inspiration: happy accident by saint motel

requested: yes | no

word count: 2769

warnings: you know me, i can’t write something without curse words in it

a/n: dad!auston is so cute, be prepared. also, i changed it up from the request but i hope it works anyway anon! if you truly want the exact request, i can probably write a second part with that in there!

Originally posted by tysbarrie

you’d never imagined yourself as a parent. sure, you cooed over babies and played the role of loving aunt, but you had never truly pictured yourself with a baby that was half you, half someone else.

Keep reading

cliche - peter parker

Cliche - ((Tom Holland)) Peter Parker x Reader | 3rd Person

Prompt: in which (Y/N) is left alone in Paris, imagining what could’ve been if Peter were there with her. ((based on “tourist: a love song from paris” by jon cozart)) link here

a/n: might make a part two using the “a non love song from nashville” which is basically peter’s perspective with the other half of the story!! also HOMECOMING COMES OUT TMR I’M ECSTATIC BUT MY DAD WON’T LET ME GO SEE IT ON OPENING DAY/WEEKEND!! but i like this one and i hope u enjoy!! i love you!!

part two!


at least I avoided cliche

holding nobody’s hand along the champs-élysées

(Y/N) walked down the streets of Paris, alone. She had originally planned to go on this trip with her boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, Peter. She walked alone to different tourist locations, but frowned when she noticed the many couples surrounding her. There were people everyone, holding hands or kissing, while she stood alone.

She walked towards the Champs-Élysées by herself, determined to have a good time without a boyfriend. In her opinion, you didn’t need a significant other to have fun, but it sure as hell sucks to be in a different country alone.

As she walked, she didn’t hold anybody’s hand. She didn’t know anybody in the city, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but envy the dozens of couples around her. Everyone was so damn happy, acting like they were in cliche movies that take place in Paris. At least (Y/N) knew that she had avoided that of all things.

taking my time

breaking bread, sipping wine

meant for two

Reaching a restaurant, (Y/N) walked in and requested a table for one. The hostess looked like she pitied her, but (Y/N) didn’t need sympathy. Walking to the small table outside, (Y/N) ordered a simple red wine while she waited for her food. And once again, couples surrounded her.

Ignoring all the happy, love-sick people around her, she sipped her wine that was set in front of her. The restaurant had provided free bread, and she ate it while she sipped on her wine. Admiring the scenery, (Y/N) had failed to notice a few simple things about her table. Across from her, sat an empty plate and wine glass, obviously meant for a person to accompany her.

People stared at the girl sitting alone at the table. She broke her bread and ate it, washing it down with red wine. There was enough bread for two people, and she was certainly drinking enough wine for two. The air around (Y/N) held an unspoken thought, this is all meant for two people, but she chose to ignore it.

it’s a beautiful city for saps

but turn out the lights, we’re too clever for that

and i know we’re not in love, but we’d fool this old town

with the view of us, thoughts from the tourists

alone

After she had left the restaurant, (Y/N) continued to walk around the city and admired it’s beauty. Everything seemed too perfect, as if it were fake. Truly, the city was beautiful for saps, for people who just loved the thought of love. The sun was setting and the shop lights were turning off, but still (Y/N) walked.

Simply too clever to be fooled by the “city of love” filled with it’s cliche thoughts and perfect relationships, (Y/N) took a step back. Looking back at the city, she looked at it as if it were just a regular city and not so well known for its ideas of love, and everything changed.

Most of those people that (Y/N) saw were not in perfect relationships, they were real people. Some may have been in love, but most of them were just in love with the idea of it. (Y/N) thought back to the person that should’ve been there with her.

Peter was (Y/N)’s ex boyfriend, and Peter had fallen out of love with her. She still loved him, but he seemed to be over her. But still, Peter could’ve been there with her. Though no longer in love, they could’ve pretended, like a few couples here did. The pair could’ve pretended to be the ideal couple, hell, for the last month of their relationship Peter did pretend.

They could’ve easily fooled the town with a simple picture of them. The tourists would’ve loved them. But instead, the tourists’ thoughts were different. Since (Y/N) was alone, the tourists judged her. It was silent, but the air became thick with judgement when she walked to a tourist attraction made for couples.

we could fall for the streets of paris

but the eiffel’s a joke and the punchline is me

When (Y/N) began to think about Peter, it all just spiraled into even more thoughts about what could’ve been between the two. In (Y/N)’s opinion, they could’ve easily fallen back in love in the streets of the city. They could’ve visited the Eiffel Tower and smiled, but it was all a joke. Their relationship was a joke, and she was the punchline.

and you know, you know it’s not funny

but we’d laugh ‘til it was just the two of us

thoughts from the tourists

alone

It wasn’t funny, but it somehow made (Y/N) laugh. The two could’ve stood there, in front of the massive structure and smiled like fools. They could’ve laughed at something that wasn’t even funny for hours at a time.

They would laugh until the world became just the two of them. The pair would laugh as everything else became unimportant. Until the tourists disappeared, until time stopped, until it was just the two of them together.

Tourists would’ve lived for the sight, seeing a young couple in love. Their thoughts about (Y/N) would’ve been drastically different from their current ones. Everyone pitied (Y/N), a hopeless romantic without romance. A hopeless romantic alone.

and i know, i know that we tried

to survive on a lie we couldn’t endure

so what’s just one more thought from the tourist

imagining the two of us

alone

The duo could’ve tried harder, (Y/N) could’ve clung on to their lie of a relationship, but she couldn’t endure it anymore. They could’ve lied one more time on this last trip, with good thoughts from the tourist. She continued imagining the two of them, but she was in deed alone.

What (Y/N) didn’t know, though, was that back in America, Peter was thinking about her. He was mentally kicking himself for what he did to her, and he was still hopelessly in love with her. But she would never know the full story, and he didn’t plan on her finding out.


also if u like this pls tap that little heart over there bc it really motivates me to write more and i appreciate every single one of you ♡ and if you ever have an issue (spelling/grammar or even the concept) just dm me!

Numb - Stiles Stilinski

Originally posted by jennchoblake

word count: 1932
summary: after the dread doctors take your soul, you’re just not you.  and it becomes more and more dangerous to yourself every day 
warnings:depression, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, swearing


You’d never felt a coldness like this before.  A numbing, empty, coldness in your chest.  It wasn’t the frostbitten-cover-your-skin-in-the-wintertime cold.  No, it was far worse.  

It was the Dread Doctors-ruined-my-life-and-now-I’m-nothing-cold.

Beginning the night of the storm, you were taken by them, and they removed something from you that you didn’t know could be physically operated to take away.  They took your happiness.  Your spirit, your charisma.  They took it away from you, and for weeks on end, you were trapped in a depression like no other.

It had confused the pack greatly, how the perky always brightside y/n l/n had gone from smiling to expressionless in the matter of a day.  And because of your wiped memory, you’d had no idea that what was once your soul, was stolen from you.  So when everyone kept asking you, begging you to brighten your eyes and tell them what was wrong, you’d tell them you were fine each day.  And they didn’t know how to fix you.

Lydia tried taking you shopping, all your favorite stores, offering to buy you a whole new wardrobe, give you a mani pedi, but what was once your girls’ favorite activities to do together just felt wrong and awkward.  Malia took you hiking, all your favorite places in the woods, but you never cracked a smile.  Kira made you a sushi dinner, remembering how much you enjoyed using chopsticks, but the confusion on your features just made her heart break.

But it was Stiles’ heart who was shattered.

His best friend, the only girl he could only fall in love with, wasn’t herself.  The dimpled angelic smile and glowing features looked so dull.  He practically saw you in black and white, when you used to be his ray of sunshine.  He tried everything, he took you for drives in Roscoe, made you dinner and cuddled you while watching your favorite movies, even the ones he despised but knew you adored.  He went and bought your favorite books for you to read, and when that didn’t seem to work he read them to you.  He brought you to dinners with his Dad, he took you on long walks late at night in the park (a secret thing that only you and him did).  He cracked jokes 25/8 in hopes of earning the smallest of smiles.  Nothing worked.

You were in a constant expressionless, barely alive, broken state.  And no one knew how to fix you.

And here you were, standing on the cliffside at the Beacon Hills Preserve, trying to think, trying to figure out what had happened to you that changed you so much.  You stepped out further, looking down at the fall beneath you.

“Help” You whispered softly, almost able to hear the echo of your voice bouncing down what must be a hundred foot drop.  You could see your breath hang in the air before dissipating.  You choked down a thick swallow, trying to fathom the horrid idea that crossed your mind.

This fall would end your suffering.


“Y/N!” Stiles screamed, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice as he sprinted faster than he ever has through the woods.  He knew you had to have come here.  

In the five minutes he left you in the living room alone while he’d gone to the kitchen, you had taken off.  When Stiles walked back to the couch, you were nowhere to be found, and the front door wide open.  He’d instantly contacted the entire pack and now they were scouring through the Preserve in search of you.  He could hear Scott and Malia howling in the distance.

Y/N PLEASE!” Stiles’ voice strained and cracked, but he didn’t care.  He just kept screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran.  The burn in his legs and stomach didn’t even matter, he didn’t care if he even puked he wouldn’t stop running in search of you.  The light of his flashlight bounced off the ground and trees, his arms moving frantically.

He was in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking like an idiot screaming and sobbing as he sprinted like there was no tomorrow through the woods, but he just didn’t care.

“Y/N!


You spun your head, your chest heaving as you squinted to see a light flashing around in the distance of trees.

“Stiles?” You whispered, trying to see what was coming towards you at a rapid speed.  When you didn’t hear another frantic scream, you turned back towards the ridge, your feet barely shuffling forwards.  You had to do this, you’d put everyone out of their misery, including yourself.  It’d be over fast, enough that you wouldn’t feel a single ounce of pain upon impact.  You had to do this

“Y/N!” You sucked in a breath, spinning around to see Stiles there, a mere ten feet away.  “y/n I need you to listen to me-”

“Don’t try to talk me out of this” You said, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.  Stiles nodded, holding out both of his hands in a form of surrender.


“I won’t” He whispered.  “But if you’re going to do this, I need you to know something” He told you, and waited for some form of response.  You only nodded.  “This, isn’t you” He said.

You opened your mouth to protest but didn’t get the chance to speak.  

“And I would know, because I know you better than anyone else, hell, I know you better than you know you, fact” He said, shooting his hand down in frustration.  “I know that you’re always tired, no matter what.  I know that you can’t have breakfast right after you wake up because you don’t get hungry for a while and you want to enjoy the meal to it’s fullest.  I know that you like to have the windows down in the car, even when it’s frickin’ ten degrees out.  I know as much as you say you hate it you love watching Star Wars, and I know you’ll never admit it to me for the sake of the argument.  I know that you have the brightest smile in Beacon Hills, even though we haven’t seen it in a while.  I know you’re afraid of the dark but you refuse to get any form of nightlight because you don’t want to succumb to the fear, you want to move on from it.  I know that you had a crush on Theo before he went bat shit crazy and tried to tear apart the pack, and I know what your feeling before you know what you’re feeling”

You blinked, your lips parted as new tears settled in your eyes.

“But damnit y/n,” Stiles stepped closer, and you didn’t stop him.  “If I lose you today without telling you that I know all these things because I’m hopelessly in love with you, then I will deliver myself to Theo and beg for him to rip me apart” He sighed heavily as you began crying in front of him.

Stiles continued, noticing how you were actually expressing feeling.  Even if it appeared to be sadness, at least it wasn’t your blankness.

“I know you were the ones who threw eggs at Jackson’s house when he beat me up freshman year, and I know you confessed to my Dad as soon as he was looking for the perp who’d done it.  I know you guys promised each other to keep your identity a secret if you promised not to let it happen” He confessed, and your eyes widened with surprise that he’d known the truth.  “He never told me, I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just know” Stiles took one more small step forwards, going unnoticed by you.  “I know you get scared sometimes that you’ll be replaced by Scott, and I know when Lydia came into the picture, you were terrified, but you never told me”

I wanted to, your voice caught in your throat.  I wanted to tell you how afraid I was.

“I know you’re not sleep cuddling when you grab on to me during sleepovers.  I know you’re awake and that you wrap yourself completely around me so that you can sleep”

Stiles was close enough that if he extended his arm, he could touch you.

“y/n, if you do this, I will never be able to do anything I’ve dreamed of doing” Stiles admitted.  “I’ll never be able to muster the courage to ask you out, I’ll never be able to take you to some fancy restaurant and tell you how gorgeous you look, I’ll never be able to kiss you or hold you, I’ll never be able to wake up with you in my arms and just lay and tell you how much you mean to me.  I’ll never be able to drop on a knee one day and ask you to be mine forever, even though forever just isn’t quite enough time for me to have with you”

“I- all I’m doing is hurting you” You choked out to him finally.  “I don’t wanna hurt you anymore, I care about you too much to put you through this-”

“Then don’t do it” Stiles took a long stride forward, and you hesitantly shuffled backwards.  If you did so again, you’d wobble of the ledge.  “Come here, let me take you home” He whispered softly, and held out his hands to you.  “Let me warm you up and we can talk, we can talk about anything you want” He said, and you stared at his open palm, your fingers itching to grab onto it.

“I’m broken Stiles” You mumbled.  “I don’t know how to fix me”

He crossed the space between you, grabbing your hand in his, holding your small and cold hand between both of his,  He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss in your palm.

“Let me help you” He whispered, and after a second of staring at him, you nodded your head shakily.

“Okay” Your voice cracked as tears streamed down your cheeks.  “Okay” You sobbed, and as you moved towards him he embraced you tightly, pulling you as far back from the ledge as he could before he couldn’t move anymore, just wanted to stand and hold you.  Your hands were fisted into the collar of his hoodie, your face buried in it.  Stiles’ hands were running through your hair and rubbing your back so quickly, the fear of almost losing you still settled in his bones.

“Don’t ever do that again” He said, kissing your cheek and head a few quick times as he rocked you side to side, one of his arms tightening around your waist.  “You scared me so bad- I don’t know what I would’ve done without you y/n I can’t- I can’t do anything without you” Your hands released his shirt to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, then delve up and grip to the longer strands, pulling your face off of him to stare up into his eyes with your tear filled ones.

“I won’t” You said, pulling him down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, like it was a normal thing for the two of you to do, then hug him tightly again.  Stiles gripped onto you, not even having the time to bask in the taste of your soft lips against his.  He didn’t have the time for that, he was still focused on the relief of having you in his arms.

“Come on, we’re going home” He whispered in your hair.


you are BEAUTIFUL and you are WORTH IT!
and if you ever think otherwise, dm me.  bc you’re amazing.  and i will prove it to you.  i also like making friends 

xoxo ~ jordie

Pieces of Us - You Found Me

Word Count: 1481

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of torture, some angst 

A/N: Companion piece to Fragments but can probably be read as a standalone oneshot. 

Written for @iwantthedean ‘s  Two Prompt One Shot Challenge. My prompt was: "Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” and also written for @supernatural-jackles birthday challenge. My song was “You Found Me” by The Fray. 


The sound of your blood whooshing through your ears was all you could focus on, trapped in the tiny, damp, concrete room where you’d been held for days. The room was shrouded in darkness, no windows to speak of. You had no way of knowing if it was night or day. Your hands were chained above your head and had lost feeling in them long ago, the pain in your shoulders bordering on unbearable. Your toes were just barely touching the floor, the way you were strung up designed to make you suffer.

“Don’t you know that you are a shooting star…” You started to sing to yourself for comfort, your voice coming out broken and hoarse but you’d be damned if that would stop you. Your demon captors hated it when you sang so you did it often to piss them off. If you were going to die here, you’d go out your own way, not theirs. You knew your dad, Dean, and Sam were all out looking for you. You’d gone out for supplies and gotten captured. You’d never made it home. There was no way they weren’t looking. Whether they would find you in time was the question.

“What have I told you about that?” Alastair himself walked in this time in lieu of a minion, his voice just as cold and obnoxious as always. He approached slowly, the tapping of his shoes against the floor the only indication you had of where he was until his face was right next to yours, his foul breath fanning across your nostrils. “Singing only gets you punished.”

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Choices - Part 1: Never Can Fill the Void

Characters: Y/N Singer (reader), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mick Davis, Bobby Singer, John Winchester,

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: self blame, self loathing, canon typical violence, mention of character deaths (only as in canon), implied smut

Word Count: 3400ish

A/N: This is 1 out of my 13 entries for @mamapeterson / @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Fanfiction Challenge where I chose the album “Smoke and Mirrors” by Imagine Dragons. The song prompt for this fic is: Polaroid

It is also gonna part one of a three part story - the two first fics are entries for the same challenge and the third is gonna be an entry for @plaidstiel-wormstache’s Push yourself challenge. The song I am writing for, for her challenge is also an Imagine Dragons song so their music is gonna be a theme throughout this series.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Thanks so much to my amazing friend and editor @blacktithe7 for betaing this series for me.

MASTERLIST

Dean stared at the road in front of him as he took himself and Sam closer and closer to their destination. He hadn’t said a word to Sam since they had received the phone call. He hadn’t believed Mick at first. It couldn’t be her. She couldn’t have done any of the things he accused her of. He had know that girl all of her life. She would never kill another human being in cold blood. The picture Mick had sent Sam, dispelled his doubts. They didn’t have the wrong person. It was her. He would know her anywhere, even after three years, a different hair color, and shorter hair. It was his Y/N the men of letters had captured. Dean still didn’t believe she had killed anyone though. He didn’t believe she had done anything to cause the power outage in the Bunker or the one in the British Men of Letter’s headquarter either. She wasn’t a witch like the Brits believed her to be. She was just Y/N.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” Y/N sat on one of her dad’s old cars when Dean walked up behind her. It was like she knew it was him. She always did, and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“Different like Sam hadn’t left last month?” Dean answered her, hopping up on the car next to her, the smile gone from his face as he thought about his little brother and how much he missed him.

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