my parents won't let me have one and my friends hate them!!!

Trust Me [Lafayette x Reader]

Length: 2483 words

Genre: Angst/Comfort

AU: Modern Time

TW: Physical Abuse / Verbal Abuse [If you need anyone to talk to, I’m always here!] 

You waved to your friends excitedly, holding a cup of tea in your hand. “Hey guys!” They all said their greetings, making space on the table for you to sit down. You sat between Gilbert and John, bringing your drink to your lips and tasting the warm tea. 

“So I heard you got someone on the side, Y/N,” John said, nudging your arm a bit once you lowered your drink. 

“What? Where did you hear that?” you laughed, shaking your head.

John shrugged. “Is it true?“ 

Keep reading

And I Won't Say No

Word count: 666
Pairing: Polyamorous! Modern! Hamilsquad x Polyamorous! Reader
Warnings: hella poly. Hella fluff.
Notes: Five bucks says I get angry Christians in my inbox

You were sitting on the doorstep of your parents house. Why were you sitting on the doorstep? Well, seeing as they kicked you out, it was an appropriate place to be. You had only come to talk, but your conversation went something like this:
-FLASHBACK-
“You’re what?” You sighed slightly. You had just told your parents you were polyamorous and Pansexual. You couldn’t much tell from their expressions how they felt, but you had a feeling it wasn’t overjoyed.

“Polyamorous and Pansexual. The two ‘P’s of the lgbt commun-”

“Get out.” Your dad said, his finger pointed at the door. Your mouth dropped open. You were hoping, praying even, that this was one of those times when parents kicked their kids out to set up a party, or where your mother would follow you. However, this was not one of those times, and he was dead serious.

“Im afraid I don’t-”

“Get out! We will not have a slut in our household.” Tears began to fall. How could he kick his own child out? Granted, you weren’t his only child, but still. You took a step back, slowly heading towards the door.

“Mom-mom talk some sense into him, please! Mom-” Your mother scowled at you.

“Don’t you ever show your face here again.” She spat, closing the door in your face. You ran a hand through your hair and over your damp face.

-FLASHBACK END-

Now you were here, on the doorstep, contemplating on where to go and who to talk to. You finally decided on Alexander.
You typed in his number, listening to the ringing before he picked up.

-Hello?-

“Alexander?” You sniffed. The man let out a throaty grunt, as if he was quietly asking what happened.

-What happened?-

“Parents house, it didn’t go well. I-they-” You began to sob again. You could feel the eyes boring into your soul from behind curtains and in the street. You were creating a scene, and if you didn’t move soon, they may call the police.

-On my way, hang in there- there was a click and a dial tone. He was coming to get you, thank god! Now hopefully he wouldn’t call the others.

Sadly, he did call the others. They hadn’t arrived yet, but they would soon enough. You hated to be such a bother, but who better to comfort you in your time of mourning?
Right now you were laying on Alexanders bed, snuggled in his arms. He listened as you cried about your experience of ‘coming out’ as many called it. Many tissues laid discarded on the ground, wet with your tears (kinda like his shirt).

“I brought ice-cream!”

“And pajamas!”

“And chicken flicks…oh, chick flicks. Right.”

You giggled at the sound of the rest of the squad. The three men burst into the room, each with a different package, and each with triumphant grins. John shoved the pajamas into your hands, pointing at the bathroom door.

“Comfy clothing, go to it.” He encouraged. You stood in the bathroom, pulling off your old clothes and slipping on the cheaply made Wal-Mart pajamas. They were blue with little turtles all over, typically of the reptile lover. You stepped out, twirling as they 'oohed’ You retook a seat near Alexander. The boys joined you on the bed, displaying their prized possessions to you.

“So, we’ve got (f/f) ice cream and ten different romcoms. Which do you want to watch first?” Hercules asked. You shrugged and pointed to 'The Notebook.’ It was the only one you recognized, after all. They must have randomly picked off the shelf.
Lafayette snuggled into your other side, whispering kind words in French. John and Hercules fell back on the sides of the two other men. They pressed the play button, listened as the commercials came, and began to skip them.
Despite your parents reactions, despite the pain and dishonor you were put through today, you never regretted falling in love with these four men.

Mean Girls Starters
  • ❝If you're from Africa, why are you white?❞
  • ❝Oh my God, [name], you can't just ask people why they're white.❞
  • ❝Boo, you whore!❞
  • ❝Nice wig, [name]. What's it made of?❞
  • ❝Your Mom's chest hair!❞
  • ❝On Wednesdays we wear pink!❞
  • ❝Calling somebody else fat won't make you any skinnier. Calling someone stupid doesn't make you any smarter. And ruining [name]'s life definitely didn't make me any happier. All you can do in life is try to solve the problem in front of you.❞
  • ❝Hey, buddy, you're not pretending anymore. You're plastic. Cold, shiny, hard plastic.❞
  • ❝You know what! It's not my fault you're like, in love with me, or something!❞
  • ❝See? That's the thing with you plastics. You think everybody is in love with you when actually, everybody HATES you! Like, [name], for example, he broke up with Regina and guess what? He still doesn't want you! So why are you still messing with [name], [name]? I'll tell you why, because you are a mean girl! You're a bitch! Here. You can have this. It won a prize.❞
  • ❝And I want my pink shirt back! I want my pink shirt back!❞
  • ❝That is so fetch!❞
  • ❝Gretchen, stop trying to make fetch happen! It's not going to happen!❞
  • ❝God! I am so sorry [name]. Really, I don't know why I did this. I guess it's probably because I've got a big lesbian crush on you! Suck on that! AY-YI-YI-YI-YI-YI!❞
  • ❝[Name], I'm sorry I laughed at you that time you got diarrhea at Barnes & Nobles. And I'm sorry for telling everyone about it. And I'm sorry for repeating it now.❞
  • ❝And none for [name], bye!❞
  • ❝Get in loser, we're going shopping.❞
  • ❝Don't have sex, because you will get pregnant and die! Don't have sex in the missionary position, don't have sex standing up, just don't do it, OK, promise? OK, now everybody take some rubbers.❞
  • ❝I wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school... I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy...❞
  • ❝She doesn't even go here!❞
  • ❝Raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by Regina George?❞
  • ❝I hear her hair's insured for $10,000.❞
  • ❝I hear she does car commercials... in Japan.❞
  • ❝Her favorite movie is Varsity Blues.❞
  • ❝One time she met John Stamos on a plane... And he told her she was pretty.❞
  • ❝One time she punched me in the face... it was awesome.❞
  • ❝Why are you eating a Kalteen bar?❞
  • ❝Man, I hate those things. Coach Carr makes us eat those when we want to move up a weight class.❞
  • ❝Why should Caesar just get to stomp around like a giant while the rest of us try not to get smushed under his big feet? Brutus is just as cute as Caesar, right? Brutus is just as smart as Caesar, people totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar, and when did it become okay for one person to be the boss of everybody because that's not what Rome is about! We should totally just STAB CAESAR!❞
  • ❝[Name] had cracked.❞
  • ❝Hell, no. I did *not* leave the South Side for this!❞
  • ❝Somebody wrote in that book that I'm lying about being a virgin, 'cause I use super-jumbo tampons, but I can't help it if I've got a heavy flow and a wide-set vagina!❞
  • ❝There's a 30% chance that it's already raining!❞
  • ❝I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me... but I can't help it that I'm so popular.❞
  • ❝I gave him everything! I was half a virgin when I met him.❞
  • ❝Do you wanna do something fun? Wanna go to taco bell?❞
  • ❝I can't go to taco bell, I'm on an all-carb diet. GOD [name] you're so stupid!❞
  • ❝It's like I have ESPN or something. My breasts can always tell when it's going to rain.❞
  • ❝That is the ugliest f-ing skirt I've ever seen.❞
  • ❝She's totally rich because her dad invented Toaster Streudels.❞
  • ❝That's why her hair is so big, it's full of secrets.❞
  • ❝She's the queen bee - the star, those other two are just her little workers.❞
  • ❝And they have this book, this burn book, where they write mean things about all the girls in our grade.❞
  • ❝Oh my God - Danny DeVito! I love your work!❞
  • ❝At your age, you're going to have a lot of urges. You're going to want to take off your clothes, and touch each other. But if you do touch each other, you will get chlamydia... and die.❞
  • ❝Is butter a carb?❞
  • ❝You can't sit with us!❞
  • ❝Fine! You can walk home, bitches.❞
  • ❝And on the third day, God created the Remington bolt-action rifle, so that Man could fight the dinosaurs. And the homosexuals.❞
  • ❝My grandma takes her wig off when she's drunk.❞
  • ❝I love her. She's like a Martian!❞
  • ❝Are they not suppose to be let out when they're grounded?❞
  • ❝She thinks she's gonna have a party and not invite me? Who does she think she is?❞
  • ❝I like invented her, you know what I mean?❞
  • ❝I just want you to know, if you ever need anything, don't be shy, OK? There are NO rules in the house. I'm not like a regular mom, I'm a cool mom.❞
  • ❝Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom? Let me know! Oh, God love ya.❞
  • ❝Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.❞
  • ❝Sorry, we only carry sizes 1, 3, and 5. You could try Sears.❞
  • ❝Regina George is not sweet! She's a scum-sucking road whore, she ruined my life!❞
  • ❝I know it may look like I was being like a bitch, but that's only because I was acting like a bitch.❞
  • ❝Your face smells like peppermint!❞
  • ❝Oh, you'll get socialized all right, a little slice like you.❞
  • ❝You're a regulation hottie.❞
  • ❝We do not have a clique problem at this school.❞
  • ❝But you do have to watch out for "frenemies".❞
  • ❝I know she's kind of socially retarded and weird, but she's my friend... so, just promise me you won't make fun of her!❞
  • ❝Half the people in this room are mad at me, and the other half only like me because they think I pushed somebody in front a bus, so that's not good.❞
  • ❝I don't hate you cuz yo' fat... yo' fat cuz I hate you!❞
  • ❝You smell like a baby prostitute.❞
  • ❝Is your muffin buttered?❞
  • ❝Jason, you do not come to a party at my house with Gretchen and then scam on some poor innocent girl right in front of us three days later. She's not interested. Do you want to have sex with him?❞
  • ❝Good. So it's settled. So you can go shave your back now. Bye, Jason.❞
  • ❝Finally, Girl World was at peace.❞
  • ❝Hey, check it out. Junior Plastics.❞
  • ❝Damn, Africa, what happened?❞
  • ❝I saw [name] wearing army pants and flip flops, so I bought army pants and flip flops.❞
  • ❝Oh, hi. Did you wanna buy some drugs?❞
  • ❝Make sure you check out her mom's boob job. They're hard as rocks.❞
  • ❝Whatever, I'm getting cheese fries.❞
  • ❝Okay, I'm going to forgive you because I'm a very Zen person... and I'm on a lot of pain medication right now.❞
  • ❝Can you believe my f-ing mom is here?❞
  • ❝I have this theory, that if you cut off all her hair she'd look like a British man.❞
  • ❝I care. Every year the seniors through this dance for the underclassmen called the Spring Fling. And whosoever is elected King and Queen automatically become head of the Student Activities Committee and since I am an active member of the Student Activities Committee, I would safely say, I care.❞
  • ❝Irregardless, ex-boyfriends are just off limits to friends. I mean that's just like the rules of feminism.❞
  • ❝Did your teacher ever try to sell you marijuana or ecstasy tablets?❞
  • ❝What are marijuana tablets?❞
  • ❝You cannot do that. That is social suicide. Damn! You are so lucky you have us to guide you.❞
  • ❝Oh, I love seeing teachers outside of school. It's like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs.❞
  • ❝Everyone in Africa knows Swedish.❞
  • ❝Made out with a hot dog? Oh my God that was one time!❞
  • ❝I know having a boyfriend might seem like the only thing important to you right now, but you don't have to dumb yourself down in order for a guy to like you.❞
  • ❝Come on! We could publish it and then everybody would see what an ax-wound she really is!❞
  • ❝And you can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week, so I guess you chose today.❞
  • ❝She's not even that good looking if you really look at her.❞
  • ❝I don't know, now that she's getting fatter she's got pretty big jugs.❞
  • ❝Watch out please! Fresh meat coming through!❞
  • ❝I'd rather see you out there shakin' that thang.❞
  • ❝You can do this. There's nothing to break your focus, because not one of those Marymount boys is cute.❞
  • ❝There are two kinds of evil people in this world. Those who do evil stuff and those who see evil stuff being done and don't try to stop it.❞
  • ❝Well, I mean you wouldn't buy a skirt without asking your friends first if it looks good on you.❞
  • ❝The limit does not exist!❞
  • ❝I just wanted to say that you're all winners. And that I couldn't be happier the school year is ending.❞
  • ❝It's called the South Beach Fat Flush and all you drink is cranberry juice for 72 hours.❞
  • ❝She's fabulous, but she's evil.❞
  • ❝So, are you gonna send any candy canes?❞
  • ❝No. I don't send them, I just get them. So you better send me one, byotch.❞
  • ❝'Cause she's a life ruiner. She ruins people's lives.❞
  • ❝Oh no, I can't say anything else until I have a parent or lawyer present.❞
  • ❝Did you see nipple? It only counts if you saw a nipple!❞
  • ❝Oh, no. It was coming up again, word vomit... no, wait a minute... Actual vomit.❞
  • ❝Grool... I meant to say cool and then I started to say great.❞
  • ❝I'm a cool mom! Right Regina?❞
  • ❝Good news, they didn't get run over... Bad news, they're still flat.❞
  • ❝Hey, hey, hey. How are my best girlfriends?❞
  • ❝Oh god, busted! Just start apologizing and crying. No, play it cool.❞
  • ❝I mean no offense, but how could she send you a candy cane? She doesn't even like you that much. Maybe she feels weird around me because I'm the only person who knows about her nose job. Oh my god, pretend you didn't hear that.❞
Heavenly Commentary: Order of the Phoenix
  • James: The fact that they don’t think Harry is normal gives me strength.
  • ***
  • Lily: He’s not well.
  • James: He’s traumatised. After what happened in the graveyard; he’s still coming to terms.
  • Cedric: You and me both Harry.
  • ***
  • James: Stay calm Harry.
  • Lily: Let it go.
  • ***
  • James: What is...? Dementors!? Really?
  • Lily: Eurgh! It was to be expected.
  • Cedric: You guys don’t seem very worried.
  • James: After everything Harry’s been through, a couple Dementors won’t be a problem. Plus he has his wand with him.
  • Lily: The real problem is, that these Dementors wouldn’t be here unless ordered. So who gave the order?
  • Cedric: Obviously Voldemort.
  • Lily: Maybe.
  • Cedric: I can’t imagine what it’s like. Watching someone you love in such terrible danger. And not being able to do a thing about it.
  • James: Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.
  • ***
  • Lily: That was pretty close though.
  • James: Yeah but he’s good. A nice fight does wonders. Plus Figg is here now.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Why doesn’t Dumbledore want Harry doing magic?
  • Lily: I’m not sure. James, go find out.
  • Cedric: Actually I’ll go. See my parents as well.
  • ***
  • James: Expelled?! For defending himself?
  • Lily: No. Dumbledore will- yup there he is.
  • ***
  • Lily: She must have heard Sev telling me.
  • James: Why did Harry think we’d talk about Dementors? I have better charm than that.
  • Lily: Barely.
  • ***
  • James: WHAT?!? He’s kicking Harry out?!
  • Lily: Petunia if you let this happen, I swear I will never forgive you.
  • James: That’s Dumbledores voice.
  • ***
  • Lily: The gangs all here.
  • James: Just after the nick of time.
  • ***
  • James: I wonder who the secret keeper of this place is?
  • Lily: After what happened to us, do you think he’d choose anyone but himself?
  • ***
  • Lily: He’s so angry.
  • James: He has the right to be.
  • ***
  • James: Dumbledore is keeping Harry in the dark.
  • Lily: Because he’s now public enemy number one. I wonder what Cedric will learn.
  • James: That losing a child, destroys a parent.
  • ***
  • Lily: THAT’S his mother?!
  • James: That’s the reason he left home.
  • ***
  • James: That was...
  • Lily: Intense. Molly can be cruel. Bringing up Azkaban like that?
  • ***
  • James: Fucking Cornelius Fudge.
  • ***
  • Cedric: The Ministry is trying to convince everyone that Voldemort isn’t back, that Harry's a liar and Dumbledore is crazy.
  • Lily: Yeah that is what we heard. How are your parents?
  • Cedric: As you'd expect. How is everyone?
  • James: They’re getting by. Welcome to the Order.
  • ***
  • Lily: He’s shaking.
  • James: I’M shaking.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Why would they change the time?
  • Lily: To force him to be late. Bastards!
  • ***
  • James: He didn’t want Dumbledore here.
  • Lily: Of course not. Fudge knows he can’t win against him.
  • ***
  • Lily: If I could I’d punch that bastard.
  • James: I know you would but he's in the clear now.
  • Lily: It’s not over. It's only getting started.
  • Cedric: What do you mean?
  • ***
  • James: I forgot about that picture. Great timing Mad-Eye.
  • Lily: Me too. Is that Molly crying?
  • Cedric: She’s seeing them all dead.
  • James: And Harry thinks he's next
  • ***
  • James: Of course she walks in when he's covered in Stinksap.
  • Lily: He's been covered in worse. He’ll be fine.
  • ***
  • Cedric: What is Harry seeing?
  • Lily: Thestrals. They pull the carriages.
  • James: But you can only see them if you've seen death.
  • Cedric: ...Oh
  • ***
  • James: When a hat is telling you something is wrong then you really should listen.
  • ***
  • Lily: Hermione is right. Looks like the fight has come to Hogwarts.
  • Cedric: Because none of us were expecting that, were we?
  • ***
  • Cedric: Let's see how many friends he really has.
  • ***
  • James: Don't you dare talk about Moony you fucking cow!
  • Lily: Calm down. Breathe.
  • James: I'm dead. I don't breathe.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Have a what?!?
  • ***
  • Lily: She’s torturing my boy. SHE’S TORTURING MY SON!! WHY ARE YOU SMIRKING?!?
  • James: Because. That bitch is trying to break him. And she has no idea who she is fucking with. But she will.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Umbridge and Voldemort? Is that possible?
  • Lily: No. She's a different type of evil.
  • ***
  • James: She lied to Filch for him. I approve of Cho.
  • Lily: Naturally.
  • ***
  • Lily: Poor Ron.
  • James: Family turning against family. Just like last time.
  • Cedric: Was it that bad?
  • James: It was hell.
  • ***
  • Cedric: She made it illegal for Professor Lupin to get another job?
  • Lily: Do me a favour Harry, destroy her.
  • ***
  • Lily: Harry got the D.
  • James: Severus GAVE Harry the D. Why are you laughing?
  • Cedric: Because Snape gave Harry the D. Do you think Harry wanted the D?
  • James: ...
  • Lily: I don't get it.
  • ***
  • Lily: His hand. It'll never heal.
  • James: He will not let this hag beat him.
  • Lily: She's torturing him James!
  • James: And my son won't break.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Do you think he'll do it? Teach them?
  • Lily: He will. As much as he’ll protest, he won't be able to stomach the idea of doing nothing.
  • ***
  • Lily: I don't know how I feel about Harry being better than a final year Durmstrang.
  • James: The word you're looking for is “proud”.
  • ***
  • James: The Hogs Head! I've missed this place.
  • Cedric: You used to come here?
  • Lily: Him and Sirius lived here.
  • James: Not true. We rarely used Aberforth. Firewhiskey was for special occasions.
  • Lily: Like Friday nights.
  • James: Saturday nights too. We were not picky.
  • ***
  • James: That went well.
  • Cedric: Yeah. I'd sign up.
  • ***
  • Cedric: No Quidditch...
  • James: No team...
  • Lily: Oh God. Now there's two of them.
  • ***
  • James: Now that Padfoot approves she is getting nervous?
  • Lily: She really is the smartest of them all.
  • ***
  • Cedric: He's connected to Voldemorts mind. That is not a good thing.
  • Lily: No. It really isn't.
  • ***
  • James: Our boy's a teacher.
  • Lily: A good one too.
  • ***
  • Lily: Don't react Harry. Don't react.
  • James: Ah shit.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Banned...
  • James: For life...
  • Lily: Calm down you two. She'll be gone by years end.
  • James: That doesn't help us now Evans!
  • Lily: Idiots.
  • ***
  • Cedric: What the hell Hagrid?
  • James: He's been pulverised.
  • ***
  • Lily: Voldemort has been trying to kill our son for 14 years. And I think I might hate Umbridge more...
  • ***
  • Lily: His first kiss. So sweet
  • James: He’s not doing too badly.
  • Lily: She seems into him.
  • James: Of course she is. He looks like me.
  • Lily: Arse. Cedric don’t they look cute together?
  • Cedric: I didn't say anything before but you realise that’s my ex right?
  • ***
  • Lily: Harry was the snake?
  • James: Dumbledore knows something.
  • Lily: Of course he does. But he's not going to tell.
  • ***
  • Lily: I love Padfoot but he's not the best at dealing with emotional stuff. Harry thinks he's going insane and Sirius tells him to sleep it off.
  • ***
  • Lily: Well well well. Ginny Weasley. Lioness.
  • James: What's that look on your face?
  • Lily: I have no idea what you're talking about.
  • ***
  • James: Frank...Alice...
  • Cedric: Poor Neville.
  • ***
  • James: Come on Padfoot do it. Just one curse.
  • Lily: Sirius don't be an idiot.
  • James: Be an idiot!
  • Lily: Occlumency though. So Voldemort IS in Harrys mind.
  • ***
  • Cedric: I can't believe this is how Snape treats Harry.
  • Lily: He's a complicated man with a skewed moral compass.
  • Cedric: If you say so...what the hell is in the Department of Mysteries?
  • James: A prophecy.
  • ***
  • Lily: Oh please God no...
  • Cedric: He broke them out. Voldemort broke them out.
  • James: And he just got ten of his most loyal and dangerous followers back.
  • ***
  • Cedric: I don't feel good for being the reason Cho just left but...I don't exactly feel bad either.
  • Lily: She misses you. I imagine she'll miss you for the rest of your life.
  • Cedric: Now I feel bad.
  • James: Don't son. It's not your fault. None of this is.
  • ***
  • Lily: This story will burn through England. The truth will finally be heard.
  • ***
  • James: Every time something good happens, something bad happens straight away.
  • ***
  • Cedric: I will never forget her face at this moment, for as long as I...well am.
  • Lily: Can we all appreciate what just happened? Dumbledore kept the old teacher, appointed the new and got another “dangerous half-breed” into the castle.
  • James: It’s a giant middle finger to Umbridge.
  • ***
  • James: SCATTER!
  • ***
  • Cedric: I can't believe Marietta would do this. She was always so nice.
  • James: I told you. Friend against friend. It's what he does.
  • Lily: Dumbledore is doing something crazy...
  • James: Holy crap!
  • ***
  • James: Fred and George. Making the Marauders proud.
  • ***
  • Lily: No Harry don't...and we're in the Pensieve.
  • Cedric: Why would he-
  • James: Oh shit. I know where we are.
  • Lily: Oh God. This is not the moment you want Harry to see.
  • Cedric: Why? What do you...ah...
  • James: You don't see it here, but Snape gave as good as he got. However I'm not exactly proud of how I acted.
  • Lily: Not ashamed either to be fair.
  • Cedric: You seem to really hate him Mrs Potter. How did you end up together?
  • Lily: It’s Lily and he changed from an arrogant arsehole to a semi-decent person.
  • James: She said that during our marriage vows. Really moving ceremony.
  • ***
  • Lily: I’ve never seen Snape this angry before.
  • James: He can't stop teaching him! He needs the lessons!
  • ***
  • Lily: Your son is ashamed of you. For the way you treated Snape. Let that sink in.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Hagrid has...a brother.
  • Lily: Half brother.
  • Cedric: Right...my mistake.
  • ***
  • James: OWLS. Let's go.
  • ***
  • Lily: They're going after Hagrid. That bitch is trying to take him out too.
  • James: Well they can tr- SHIT!
  • Cedric: Professor Mcgonagall!
  • ***
  • Lily: He looks exhausted.
  • James: Well he has fallen asleep.
  • Lily: During your last OWL? Really Harry?
  • ***
  • James: I'll be back!
  • Cedric: Where is he going?
  • Lily: He's going to see where Sirius is.
  • ***
  • James: He’s at Grimmauld Place.
  • Lily: Which means Voldemort is baiting Harry into a trap.
  • ***
  • Cedric: What is she do- no...-wait SHE sent the Dementors?
  • James: Even I didn't see that coming.
  • ***
  • Lily: What are you up to Hermione?
  • James: That arrow in the tree answer your questions?
  • ***
  • Lily: Goodbye you evil, twisted bitch.
  • James: And hello Grawp.
  • ***
  • Lily: They got free?
  • Cedric: Yeah it was pretty cool. Ginny is powerful.
  • ***
  • James: Here we go.
  • ***
  • Cedric: Where is everyone? It's completely empty.
  • ***
  • Lily: That archway...I think we're on the other side of it.
  • ***
  • James: Harry don't touch it. Please listen to your friends. Don't pick up that prophecy.
  • Lily: No...
  • ***
  • Cedric: That's Mr Malfoy!
  • James: And the rest of his Death Eater friends.
  • Cedric: Harry, run.
  • Lily: They can't run. They have to fight.
  • ***
  • James: Focus Harry! Don't listen to Malfoy.
  • ***
  • Lily: Keep moving! Don't stop!
  • ***
  • James: Leave the man baby! Find the others!
  • Cedric: Duck!
  • Lily: HERMIONE!
  • ***
  • Cedric: She's alive. Oh she's alive.
  • James: She won't be for long. Our kids aren't doing permanent damage and the Death Eaters are playing to win. They need to get out.
  • ***
  • Lily: He's leading them away...
  • James: Good man Harry.
  • Lily: Oh no...Neville.
  • ***
  • James: ABOUT FUCKING TIME!
  • Lily: Now it's a fight you son's of bitches!
  • ***
  • Cedric: Dumbledore! He's here! It's over!
  • Lily: Calm down. It's not over till its...
  • James: ...
  • Sirius: ...
  • Sirius: Oh that bitch!
  • James: Fourteen years. You don’t call. You don’t write. And you pick NOW to visit?
  • ***
  • Sirius: I probably shouldn't have taunted her.
  • James: Shut up Padfoot, they're still fighting!
  • ***
  • James: Harry NO! Stay away from Bellatrix!
  • Sirius: Where are we?
  • Cedric: Life after death. Seriously though shh.
  • ***
  • Lily: He.. he tried using Cruciatus.
  • James: It’s war and he just lost someone.
  • ***
  • James: He's here...
  • Lily: So is Albus.
  • ***
  • Lily: No no no no please God no
  • Cedric: What is it?! What's happening?
  • James: Voldemort is possessing my boy.
  • ***
  • Cedric: It’s over. He's gone.
  • James: No son. It’s not over. It's now open warfare.
  • ***
  • Sirius: He's in such pain. Harry I'm so sorry.
  • Lily: I can't watch this. I can't...
  • ***
  • James: Now you know. Now you know why he's after you.
  • ***
  • Sirius: In battle. Isn't that what we always said Prongs?
  • James: Wand in hand.
  • Lily: Well you failed at that James.
  • James: You didn't exactly live a long and happy life yourself.
  • Sirius: God I’ve missed you two.
  • ***
  • Sirius: The mirror. I thought he...he never opened it.
  • ***
  • James: And just like that he's going back. Broken and beat up and torn apart inside.
  • Lily: He’ll be fine. He has to be.
  • Sirius: He's not alone. He's got friends and family. It just wasn’t us.
Garrett Inquisition Banters - Dorian
  • Dorian: The Champion of Kirkwall, is it? A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance
  • Garrett: I wouldn't have thought anyone who could have had a seat in the Magesterium would much care to know about the south
  • Dorian: You know of the Magesterium? Truly? Most in the South think ever mage in Tevinter is a Magister
  • Garrett: Don't take it as a compliment. My husband was a slave to one of your magisters
  • ---
  • Dorian: So you married a slave?
  • Garrett: /Former/ slave. He belongs to no one
  • Dorian: Ooh, touchy
  • ---
  • Dorian: Have I offended you?
  • Garrett: What makes you think I'm offended?
  • Dorian: Well in Varric's book he writes you as an understanding paragon of goodness, and yet whenever I'm within ten feet you start scowling
  • Garrett: I... didn't realise. I apologise
  • Dorian: Oh no need. In fact, it makes you one of the friendliest southerners I've met so far!
  • ---
  • Dorian: So-
  • Garrett: Not now
  • Dorian: I haven't even said anything
  • Garrett: I'm not up for talking at the moment. Please, just not now
  • Varric: Leave him alone, Sparkler. Everyone has their days
  • ---
  • Garrett: So you actually read Varric's books then?
  • Dorian: Not all of them. I tried reading that romance, Swords and Shields, per Cassandra's recommendation. I felt my IQ drop after the first sentence
  • Garrett: The Seeker recommended it? Varric will have a field day with that
  • Dorian: Well would you look at that? A smile! I feel blessed
  • Garrett: *sighs* And now you've ruined it
  • ---
  • Dorian: So... you're interested in men, are you?
  • Garrett: And married
  • Dorian: Well I noticed /that/. You and Fenris can barely keep your hands off of each other. I was just wondering...
  • Garrett: What?
  • Dorian: Never mind. Let's go back to you scowling at me whenever I walked into the room, that was much more comfortable
  • ---
  • (After Dorian's personal quest)
  • Garrett: The other day, when you brought up my preference for men, were you going to ask about my father when he found out?
  • Dorian: Ah, I've been had, have I?
  • Garrett: It would seem so. Do you still want to know?
  • Dorian: So long as it doesn't end with 'and then he decided to try a blood ritual to make me acceptable'
  • Garrett: Nothing like that. I was about seventeen when I realised, nineteen when I finally told him. It wasn't easy. I was terrified actually
  • Dorian: You were scared he wouldn't approve. I understand. What did he do, when you told him?
  • Garrett: He and my mother sat there and they listened. And when it was done, they just hugged me, told me they loved me, and that was it
  • Dorian: I see. You were lucky to have parents so ready to accept you as you were
  • Garrett: I was. And maybe you might be too, if your father's serious about making amends
  • Dorian: Maybe. I'd like to think he is
  • ---
  • Dorian: So your brother is a Grey Warden?
  • Garrett: He is. My fault, I'm afraid
  • Dorian: How so? I take it you didn't make him do it on a dare?
  • Garrett: I let him have his way. I let him go on that damned Deep Roads Expedition because he'd have thrown a fit over it otherwise
  • Dorian: He caught the Blight, I take it?
  • Garrett: Yes. And if not for Anders knowing where to find Grey Wardens, he would have died
  • Dorian: That hardly makes it your fault. Sounds more like rotten luck to me
  • Garrett: If I'd just made him stay at home-
  • Dorian: He'd have thrown a fit and done something equally stupid to spite you, I'm sure
  • Carver: I'm standing right here you know
  • Dorian: Oh I'm well aware
  • ---
  • Dorian: You know I always thought that Varric made that up
  • Garrett: *groans* Dare I even ask...
  • Dorian: You'd really never kissed anyone before Fenris? And he was your first time too? My, how romantic
  • Garrett: I am going to kill Varric...
  • Dorian: And here I thought we were past the 'you scowling at my mere presence' stage
  • ---
  • Garrett: So, you and Farier?
  • Dorian: Ah, you are curious? Well, I do love talking about me, so there's no harm in indulging you
  • Garrett: *chuckles* How on earth does he put up with you?
  • Farier: Well see, he does this thing with his tongue where he-
  • Dorian: Amatus!
  • Farier: *smugly* What? You use your tongue to talk, don't you?
  • Dorian: Oh, you little-!
  • Garrett: *laughs*
  • ---
  • Dorian: So... open to a friendly wager, Garrett?
  • Garrett: Hardly. The last time I wagered anything, it involved Isabela winning my clothes at cards and me running home with a bucket to cover my privates
  • Dorian: *laughs* Quite the image! Now that's a story I have to hear
  • Varric: I'll tell you all about it back at camp, Sparkler
  • Marian: You can see it first hand if you get him drunk enough
  • Dorian: And now I have my next endeavour all planned out
  • Garrett: Maker, no. Just no
  • ---
  • Garrett: So, out of curiosity, what did you want to wager on?
  • Dorian: Interested are we?
  • Garrett: Hardly, just curious as to what you were going to propose
  • Dorian: Well it's not fun if we don't wager. Varric put in for ten royals already on the odds of three-to-one
  • Garrett: In favour of what?
  • Dorian: I'm only telling those who are betting
  • ---
  • Garrett: Fine, just tell me what we're betting on
  • Dorian: Aha! Knew your curiosity would win out. We're betting on our dear Inquisitor's chances for success
  • Garrett: You're... betting on whether or not she'll die? That's rather morbid
  • Dorian: Not dying per say, though I suppose that will be the outcome if Corypheus isn't stopped. So, your wager?
  • Garrett: Not my trousers, that's for damn sure
  • Dorian: *laughs* Blast, and to think I could have owned the trousers of the Champion of Kirkwall!
  • Sera: I could pants him for you!
  • Garrett: Don't even think about it
  • Sera: *cackles* Too late!
  • Garrett: She's joking... Right?
  • Dorian: My dear Garrett, I'd watch myself from now on if I were you
  • ---
  • Dorian: So I sated your curiosity on our bet, now sate mine. Why /were/ you always scowling at me?
  • Garrett: I didn't even realise I was doing it before you pointed it out
  • Dorian: Nonsense, there must have been a reason. I /did/ hear you duelled Danarius and had a part in his death
  • Garrett: True. And I still have the scars to prove it
  • Dorian: So is it because I was nearly a magister? I take it that it's not because I'm from Tevinter, considering your choice in marital partner
  • Garrett: I... I don't know
  • Dorian: Ah, perhaps you feared I would harm Fenris in some way? I imagine he paints quite a picture of the Imperium
  • Garrett: Just... stop. I don't want to talk about this anymore
  • Dorian: Very well. Shall we talk about me instead? I do love that topic
  • ---
  • Dorian: Are they always that loud?
  • Garrett: Try sleeping next door to them. I think they do it on purpose
  • Dorian: Have you ever tried-?
  • Garrett: Yes, and it doesn't work. Trust me
  • Dorian: You must have gotten back at them somehow. I doubt Fenris would let it go
  • Garrett: *smugly* Well we did book them for the Bad Girl Special at the Blooming Rose once
  • Dorian: What-?
  • Marian: I still hate you for that
  • Garrett: I know. And it was worth it
  • ---
  • Dorian: You... really remember nothing?
  • Garrett: Not really. Only what I've been told since waking up
  • Dorian: Hm. When the Nightmare stole Lyris' memories, it only took her memories of the Conclave... Perhaps it was your extended contact with the demon that did it
  • Garrett: Do you think it will come back?
  • Dorian: I don't know. But if there is a chance, I am happy to help however I can
  • Garrett: Thank you Dorian
  • Dorian: Hmph, of course it took a memory wipe for you to say that to me
  • ---
  • Dorian: Lothering?
  • Garrett: Darkspawn
  • Dorian: Cheery. Kirkwall?
  • Garrett: Home
  • Dorian: Fenris?
  • Garrett: Husband
  • Dorian: Are you saying that because you know it, or because you feel it?
  • Garrett: ...both
  • Dorian: Hm... Ah. Dorian?
  • Garrett: *smugly* Scowling
  • Dorian: Aha, you /are/ starting to remember properly now, aren't you?
  • ---
  • Garrett: Thank you Dorian
  • Dorian: Well, I won't be one to refuse thanks but I usually like to know what I'm being thanked for
  • Garrett: For helping me remember. I was a bit of an arse to you in the beginning, wasn't I?
  • Dorian: Well you didn't spit when we met. It's more than I can say for the blacksmith
  • Garrett: *sighs* And there goes the moment...
  • ---
  • Garrett: So, Dorian...
  • Dorian: Ah, are we back to scowling now I am to be a true Magister? Don't worry, I won't hold it against you. I've even been practicing my maniacal laugh
  • Garrett: I just wanted to offer my sympathies for your father's death. I know how hard it is to lose a parent
  • Dorian: *sympathetically* Or two, in your case. I appreciate the sentiment, though I'd rather not speak at length about it
  • Garrett: Of course. Have you at least had your grapes peeled for you since being back in Tevinter?
  • Dorian: *laughs* No, but it is at the top of my list when I take my seat in the Magesterium. Along with trying to drag the Imperium back out of the muck, though that's a slightly more long term goal I'm afraid
  • Garrett: I'd heard a few rumours about that. You really think you can do it?
  • Dorian: Maybe, maybe not. But if I don't try, who will?
  • Garrett: True enough. If you ever need anything...
  • Dorian: Oh perish the thought. I believe you've been through enough, my friend. Only fate would be unkind enough to saddle you with yet more trouble after all of this
This is probably my favorite poem of all time. Please read it, you won't regret it.

When I was a kid,

I used to think pork chops and karate chops were the same thing.

I thought they were both pork chops.

And because my grandma thought it was cute,

And because they were my favorite,

She let me keep doing it.

Not really a big deal.

One day,

Before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees

I fell out of a tree

And bruised the right side of my body

I didn’t wanna tell my grandmother about it,

Because I was scared I’d get in trouble for playing somewhere I shouldn’t have been.

A few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise

And I got sent to the principal’s office.

From there I was sent to a small room with a really nice lady

Who asked me all kinds of questions about my life at home.

I saw no reason to lie

As far as I was concerned life was pretty good.

I told her,

“Whenever I was sad my grandmother gives me karate chops.”

This led to a full-scale investigation,

And I was removed from the house for three days,

Until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises.

News of this silly little story quickly spread through the school

And I earned my first nickname,

Pork Chop.

To this day…

I hate pork chops.

I’m not the only kid who grew up this way.

Surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme…

About sticks and stones.

As if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called,

And we got called them all.

So we grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us.

That we’d be lonely

Forever.

That we’d never meet someone to make us feel like the sun was something they built for us in their tool shed.

So broken heartstrings bled the blues

As we tried to empty ourselves

So we would feel nothing.

Don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone.

That an ingrown life

Is something surgeons can cut away

That there’s no way for it to metastasize—

It does.

She was eight years old…

Our first day of grade three

When she got called

“Ugly.”

We both got moved to the back of class

 So we would stop getting bombarded by spitballs.

The school halls were a battleground

And we found ourselves outnumbered

Day after wretched day.

We used to stay inside for recess,

Because outside was worse.

Outside we’d have to rehearse running away,

Or learn to stay still like statues,

Giving no clues that we were there.

In grade five…

They taped a sign to the front of her desk that read

“Beware of Dog.”

To this day,

Despite a loving husband,

She doesn’t think she’s beautiful

Because of a birthmark that takes up a little less than half her face.

Kids used to say

She looks like a wrong answer that someone tried to erase

But couldn’t quite get the job done.

And they’ll never understand

That she’s raising two kids

Whose definition of beauty

Begins with the word “Mom.”

Because they see her heart

Before they see her skin.

Because she’s only ever always been

Amazing.

He

Was a broken branch grafted onto a different family tree.

Adopted

Not because his parents opted for a different destiny.

He was three before he became a mixed drink of

One part left alone

And two parts tragedy.

Started therapy in eighth grade.

Had a personality made up of

Tests and pills.

Lived like the uphills were mountains

And the downhills were cliffs.

Four fifths suicidal,

A tidal wave of anti-depressants,

And an adolescence of being called “Popper.”

One part because of the pills,

And ninety-nine parts because of the cruelty.

He tried to kill himself in grade ten

When a kid,

Who cold still go home to Mom and Dad,

Had the audacity to tell him

“Get over it.”

As if depression is something that can be remedied,

By any of the contents found in a first aid kit.

To this day,

He is a stick of TNT lit from both ends,

Could describe to you,

In detail,

The way the sky bends,

In the moments before it’s about to fall.

And despite an army of friends,

Who all call him an inspiration,

He remains a conversation piece between people who can’t understand,

Sometimes being drug free

Has less to do with addiction

And more to do with sanity.

We weren’t the only kids who grew up this way.

To this day,

Kids are still being called names.

The classics were

“Hey Stupid.”

“Hey Spaz.”

Seems like every school has an arsenal of names,

Getting updated every year.

And if a kids breaks in a school,

And no one around chooses to hear

Do they make a sound?

Are they just background noise

Of a soundtrack stuck on repeat,

When people say things like

“Kids can be cruel”?

Every school was a big top circus tent,

And the pecking order went from

Acrobats to lion tamers,

From clowns to carnies.

All of these were miles ahead of who we were.

We were freaks.

Lobster claw boys and bearded ladies,

Oddities

Juggling depression and loneliness,

Playing solitaire,

Spin the bottle

Trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves,

And heal.

But at night,

While the others slept,

We kept walking the tightrope.

It was practice,

And yeah,

Some of us fell.

But I wanna tell them that

All of this—

Is just debris,

Leftover when we finally decided to smash all the things we thought we used to be.

And if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself,

Get a better mirror.

Look a little closer.

Stare a little longer.

Because there’s something inside you that made you keep trying

Despite everyone who told you to quit.

You built a cast around your broken heart

And signed it yourself.

You signed it,

“They were wrong.”

Because maybe you didn’t belong to a

Group

Or a clique.

Maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball

Or everything.

Maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth to show and tell

But never told,

Because how can you hold your ground

If everyone wants to bury you beneath it?

You have to believe that

They were wrong

They have to be wrong.

Why else would we still be here?

We grew up learning to cheer on the underdog

Because we see ourselves in them.

We stem from a root planted in the belief

That we are not what we were called.

We are not abandoned cars stalled out

And sitting empty on some highway.

And if in some way we are,

Don’t worry.

We only got to walk out and get gas.

We are graduating members from the class of

“We made it.”

Not the faded echoes of voices crying out

“Names will never hurt me.”

Of course,

They did.

But our lives will only ever always continue to be a balancing act

That has less to do with pain,

And more to do with

Beauty.

Request: It Won’t Be Like This For Long

Request: Hi!! I literally am in love with all your writings!! ❤️❤️ Can you please do a oneshot with DeanxReader based off the song “It Won’t Be Like This For Long ” by Darius Rucker?

Word Count: 2,385 (whoops?)

This song made me cry. But it was beautiful. Thank you! I hope you have the best day ever<33

At the sound of crying, you shift out of Dean’s arms and roll out of bed. He looks up at you blearily, but you pat his shoulder and smile tiredly.

“You got her last time,” You murmur, “I got it.”

You stand carefully, and Dean watches as you pad through to the room next door and turn on the light, bathing yourself in the warm, vanilla light.

“Hey, little one,” You murmur softly, bending down to pick up your wailing daughter. You bring her close to you and cradle her gently, trying to find the source of her cries. She only fed an hour ago, but…

Ah, diaper change.

Even after you’ve changed her and stayed with her for a while, she won’t sleep. For some reason, she continues to cry, and cry, and cry. You sit down on the rocking chair and keep her settled enough so that Dean can at least sleep through the doorway.

Maria Eleanor Winchester is only three days old, but she’s already changed everything you thought you knew about life. Suddenly, there’s a teeny tiny being in your life that you have to fully sustain; to keep alive and protect with everything you have. There’s love in your heart you never thought possible until now. Although, between the three of you, you have little experience with newborns, you’ve been working through it together, like a real family.

You rock her in your arms, humming an old lullaby that you’ve long since forgotten the words to. It keeps her whines to a minimum – it must be hard for her, you ponder, to have been removed from the dark warmth that she’d always known and thrust out into this cold, dark world.

Meanwhile, Dean lies in bed, staring at the ceiling. The glow from the nursery isn’t what’s keeping him up – it’s the small cries coming from the room. He sighs, listening to your soothing melody. He remains awake as long as you do, even until the clock beside the bed flickers to display seven AM and you come through, dozing baby in your arms.

“Looks like it’s morning.” You say with a soft smile, “I’m gonna go-“

“I’m coming,” He says quickly, flinging the blanket off of him, “I’ll put come coffee on, you go and get comfy.” He insists, pressing a light kiss to your forehead and splashing his face with water from the glass beside the bed, before heading off towards the kitchen. You smile slightly at your husband, and head towards the library – Sam’s already in there, reading some old text. You heard him come back from his run a while ago.

“Mornin’,” He greets, eyes softening as they land on the baby girl in your arms. She’s almost asleep, but you just know if you put her down she’ll wake.

“Hey,” You sit down across from him, still rocking side to side gently, “Dean’s bringing coffee.”

“Sounds like you’ll need it. Been up long?”

“Only since three,” You laugh softly, looking down at Maria, “It’s okay, though. I don’t mind.”

Dean chooses that moment to come in, balancing three mugs in his hands. He places them on the table and takes the baby from your arms, looking at her worriedly.

“Is she okay?” He whispers, “She was crying for so long and…”

“She’s fine,” You promise him as he takes a seat beside you, “Don’t worry.”

“But what if something’s wrong, or- or-“

“Or nothing,” You smile slightly, “She’s okay. I’m sure of it.”

“Y/N, we don’t know what we’re doing here!” He hisses, “How do you know that she’s not going to… burst into flames?!”

At the sore subject, both brothers grimace. You, in return, lean over and kiss Dean’s lips.

“Everything is going to be okay.” You promise him, “It won’t be like this for long, you’ll see.”

***

“Mama?” The small voice comes from the foot of the bed, “Papa?”

You blink awake and lift Dean’s arm from your waist to sit up, looking down at your daughter’s worried expression in the darkness.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask quietly, feeling as Dean shifts beside you and lifts his head.

“I had a bad dream.” She admits, “Can I get in with you?”

“Of course.” Dean replies, holding out his arms. Maria wobbles up and onto the bed, crawling beneath the covers and landing in between you. You lie down as she snuggles into you – the leg of her beloved stuffed moose digs into your rib, but you could care less as Dean joins you, his arm stretching over you both and returning to rest on your waistline.

Before you know it, morning comes and although the bunker stays dark, the alarm begins to blare. You rouse your little family, before heading off to make breakfast.

It’s an important day for the three of you. A couple of months ago, Maria turned four – and, therefore, became eligible to begin school. You and Dean promised to give her the most normal upbringing possible, and so enrolled her. The beginning of the term came all too quickly, however, setting you both on edge. In her obliviousness, she’s equal parts excited and nervous.

While you eat your breakfast, she rambles on about the friends she’s going to make and the great time she’s going to have. You listen intently as if trying to soak up every little bit of her, like you’re going to lose her forever, rather than just a few hours.

You and Dean drive her to the school, walking her to the gate. The teacher stands there, taking names and reassuring nervy parents.

“Good morning,” She greets. She’s an older woman, with greying hair and kind eyes, “How are you this morning?”

When none of you answer, Dean speaks up.

“We’re okay, thanks.”

“First time?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles uneasily. He’s about to say something else when there’s a small sniffle, and Maria grabs onto his leg in terror.

“I don’t wanna go, papa!” She cries, small tears suddenly running down her pink cheeks, “I don’t wanna!”

In panic, Dean looks to the woman in front of him as if to ask what can I do?!

The woman with the kind eyes merely smiles, all too relaxed for the situation.

“Don’t worry,” She says softly, “It’ll only last a week, or two at most.”

It takes a little encouragement, but you manage to get your daughter smiling and bounding off into the classroom. The teacher’s words ring true, though, as within the week she’s running off to talk to her new friends without so much as a second glance at you and Dean.

***

“I hate you!” Maria screams, “You don’t get it, Dad! I can’t replace everything you’ve lost and I can’t stay in here forever!”

“Maria, don’t you-“ Dean, in his panic, starts yelling. He’s never liked raising his voice to his daughter and you could probably count the amount of times he’s done it on one hand. You watch on, not wanting to interrupt either of them, “You’re not hunting, and that’s that!”

“For god’s sake, dad!” She cries, “My uncle is an angel! How the hell do I find that out and not want to learn more!”

“Then you ask me, or your mom, or either of your uncles. You do not touch the Black Magic books!”

“I didn’t know! You can’t protect me forever!” She snarls, an echo of Dean’s own temper evident in her tone. With that, she storms off and you hear the door to her room slam loudly.

Dean turns straight to you, taking the three strides necessary and throwing his arms around you. He falls into your embrace, tears pricking at his eyes.

“I couldn’t- she-“ He whispers into your ear, “She hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t,” You reply calmly, “She just had her whole life shaken up, Dean. She’s working through some stuff, and-“

“So am I!”

“I know. But you’re an adult, and you know how to deal with it. She, on the other hand, is sixteen.” You remind him, before pressing a kiss to his lips, “C’mon, you go get a beer, and I’ll go talk to her.”

Your hand had been forced, a week ago, after a demon had attacked her and a group of friends when they were at the mall. Dean, the ever-protective parent, had been ‘shopping’ in the vicinity and had stepped in, but the event had resulted in you telling her everything. It had been an eight-hour discussion, carrying on into the early hours of the next morning, but she’s filled in. It had scared her at first – you’d found her in the kitchen at four-thirty, drinking a glass of milk and shaking like a leaf as thoughts plagued her mind of the past she’d never seen. Apparently curious, however, she’d slipped into the ‘forbidden’ storeroom and taken out an old book that even you were too nervous to read through.

You head over to her room and knock twice on the door. You hear a sniffle, and a muffled ‘go away, dad!’

“It’s me,” You say softly, opening the door a crack. Maria looks over to you and wipes the tears from her cheeks, sitting up from the pillow she’d been crying into.

“Mom?” She whispers. You head over to the bed and pull her into your arms, cradling her close as she collects herself, “He hates me, mom.”

“No he doesn’t,” You shake your head, “He loves you more than anything.”

“He has a funny way of showing it!” She insists, looking at you through tearful green eyes, so like her father’s.

“He always has,” You smile thoughtfully, “The first time he said ‘I love you’ to me, he had a knife to my throat.”

What?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Yes!”

“Fine, fine. He’d been dead for a while – you know that – and he came back, and I thought he was a demon, so… I tried to attack him. He was stronger – plus I was drunk, so it didn’t count – and he had the knife to my throat, so I was like, who the hell are you?! And he replied, I’m Dean Winchester, and I love you.”

“That’s brilliant.” She says, significantly cheered by your anecdote, “You’re sure he doesn’t hate me?”

“No. In fact, I think he kinda wants to talk to you.” You suggest softly, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently, “I’m gonna find some ice-cream, and maybe we can have a movie night. And tomorrow… maybe we can talk about letting you read something?”

“Thanks, mom!” She smiles, throwing her arms around you, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

***

The music plays softly throughout the chapel as Dean guides your daughter down the aisle – well, more like she guides him. It’d be a miracle if he could see a thing behind the tears glassing his eyes. You smile quietly, shifting in your seat as pride swells within you. She’s so happy with this boy, and he’s normal – he knows about your hunting pasts, but has nothing to do with it. She gets to have a life away from all of that and, in your eyes, it’s the greatest gift he could ever give her.

As Dean reaches the end of the aisle, he lifts her veil from her face to reveal her beautiful face – she grew into such an incredible young woman, and you couldn’t be happier for her.

“I love you.” She mouths to him, and he returns the sentiment, before passing her hand to her husband-to-be and comes to sit beside you.

He reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it tightly.

***

It’s a little under a year later when something bangs on the bunker door. It’s just after four-thirty and you’d be asleep weren’t it for the book you’ve been addicted to recently. As you hear the knocks, you instinctively reach out for Dean, who sleeps next to you. His eyes open and he frowns as the knocking sounds again.

“Who is that?” He murmurs, and you shrug, climbing out of bed. Dean follows and as three more loud knocks sound, you break into a jog.

Dean gets to the door first and pulls it open. He’s about to pull a gun on whoever it is, the metal clatters to the floor as Maria barrels into his arms and begins crying profusely. You’re left shocked as the buried her head in her father’s chest and sobs openly, tears soaking into his shirt. You only catch a few words of her muffled grief, but what you do catch sets your blood boiling.

“He left me,” She says, “There’s- there’s another woman.”

You both manage to usher her to the sitting room and get a warm cup of tea in her hands, while Dean paces angrily. He keeps looking towards the door, where the weaponry still is, and then back to Maria.

“I’m gonna kill him,” He snarls, “I’m gonna tear his-“

“Dean,” You say softly, running your hand over Maria’s hair from where her head lies on your shoulder, “I think she just needs her papa.”

By employing the name she’s used for him when scared or worried as a child, you break Dean’s anger spell and he sits down on the floor in front of her, taking both of her hands in his.

“I’m not gonna kill him yet,” He promises, “Let’s get you some sleep, okay?”

She agrees readily and she and Dean had to the room she used to occupy. Old trinkets and posters still litter the walls, and she smiles ever so slightly as Dean tucks her into bed as he would a child.

“Dad?” She asks quietly as he kisses her forehead.

“Mm?”

“Will you stay with me?” She shuffles up, opening the covers for him to climb in, “I just… don’t wanna be alone.”

Dean smiles, before nodding, “Of course.”

He climbs in and she curls into him, closing her eyes. His heart is as broken as hers; watching her cry is the worst form of torture he’s ever endured.

You stand silently in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself as both she and Dean drift off. As much as she might like to think she’s all grown up, she can’t be that way forever.

what happened? :(
  • You: Hello, Hamish [15]. You may not know who I am. My name is Sherlock Holmes. SH
  • Stranger: Er, hi. Who are you? HW
  • You: [Delay] I was a friend of your father's. SH
  • Stranger: He's not mentioned you. HW
  • You: We have not seen each other in a very long time. SH
  • Stranger: Yeah, but he would've mentioned you. HW
  • Maybe I should ask him about you first. HW
  • You: Probably. SH
  • You: He is going to be angry that I contacted you. SH
  • Stranger: Then why did you? Who are you? HW
  • If you were friends, he wouldn't be angry. HW
  • You: We were friends, but he wants nothing to do with me. SH
  • You: I wanted to know how the two of you are doing. SH
  • Stranger: We're fine. HW
  • What did you do? Sorry, I'm just quite confused and not too sure who you are or why you care about me? If you want to know how he's doing, talk to him. HW
  • Stranger: ((brb))
  • You: I would if I had any hope that he would reply. SH
  • You: [Delay] I had to leave London for two years. He believed I was dead. SH
  • Stranger: You let your best friend think that you were dead for two years? No wonder you're not friends anymore. HW
  • And so, you think that the best way to get in contact with him would be through his son. Good one. HW
  • You: I know. SH
  • You: There is no excuse, but my hand was forced by a very bad man. SH
  • Stranger: Er, this is really kinda weird? So I'm going to stop replying, because I have no idea who you are? Er, yeah. HW
  • I'll tell my dad. Tell him you said hi, or something. HW
  • You: I understand. SH
  • You: Thank you for your time, Hal. SH
  • Stranger: ...Only my Dad calls me Hal. HW
  • You: I apologise. Hamish. SH
  • Stranger: Okay. Well... Bye. HW
  • You: [Delay] Goodbye. SH
  • Stranger: [three hours later]
  • You are going to delete his number, delete all of these back-and-forth texts between the two of you, and you're not going to talk to him. Same with me. JW
  • You: [Delay] I will not contact either of you again. SH
  • Stranger: Good. Goodbye. JW
  • You: I'm sorry. Goodbye. SH
  • Stranger: [Delay[ Why now? JW
  • You: I knew you want nothing to do with me, and I did not want to contact Hamish until he was old enough to decide whether he wanted to speak to me or not. SH
  • You: I'm sorry. SH
  • Stranger: He won't want to speak to you. I'm making that decision for him. JW
  • You: I understand. SH
  • You: I'm sorry. SH
  • Stranger: Stop saying sorry. I don't... I don't care. Not anymore. JW
  • You: Right. Understandable. SH
  • You: Thank you. SH
  • Stranger: You aren't his father. Not any more. He doesn't even know who you are, isn't that deterrent enough? JW
  • You: I am aware, but I had nothing to lose. SH
  • Stranger: What did you want from this? For us to welcome you with open arms, for Hal to be glad of a second parent? JW
  • You: I wanted to know how you are. SH
  • Stranger: We're fine. JW
  • You: I understand. SH
  • You: Thank you. SH
  • Stranger: Goodbye. JW
  • You: Have a good life. SH
  • Stranger: I will. JW
  • You: Thank you for your time. This has been the best day of my life for thirteen days. SH
  • You: I won't bother you again. SH
  • Stranger: Thirteen? What happened thirteen days ago? JW
  • You: ((ah, thirteen years. lol))
  • Stranger: ((oh! hahaha sorry :') ))
  • Stranger: Fine. Fine. I'll see you... Well. I won't. JW
  • You: Be happy. SH
  • You: [Delay] Goodbye. SH
  • Stranger: Goodbye. JW
  • You: [Three hours later] I love you. SH
  • You: I apologise for my last text. Delete it. SH
  • Stranger: You don't love me. You wouldn't have done all of /that/ if you did. JW
  • Stranger: But yeah, it's gone. Never happened. JW
  • You: [Delay] What would you have me do? He threatened you and Hamish. SH
  • Stranger: One word. One word, that is all I would've needed. One bloody word, Sherlock. Or some form of /anything/ to tell me that you weren't dead. JW
  • You: They were still watching you. SH
  • You: Besides, coming back was not always part of the plan. SH
  • Stranger: Would it have mattered if they were watching? You could slip one word. Mycroft could've said something, /Molly/ could've, if only you'd let them. Christ, Sherlock, you've no idea. JW
  • How was it not part of the plan? If a good case hadn't come up in London, would you not have bothered to talk to us again? Did we mean that bloody little to you?! JW
  • You: Difficult to talk to people when you're dead. SH
  • You: Would you have preferred to see me die and then find out that I was alive only to be told that I had died in a cellar in Serbia? SH
  • You: I would have considered that cruel. SH
  • Stranger: I would have preferred to find out you were alive but unable to come back to us for a while, and that what you were doing was dangerous and potentially life-threatening. Yes, that would've made things harder, but I would've known that you were trying to come home to us. Not that you were dead, full stop. No, /that's/ cruel. JW
  • You: [Delay] I knew not telling you would risk our relationship, but the other option would have risked your lives. SH
  • You: I made a choice and I stand by it. I'm sorry. SH
  • Stranger: Well, that choice has cost you your relationship. Stand by it. JW
  • You: I have, for the past thirteen years. SH
  • You: I could never bring myself to regret it. You and Hamish are alive and well. SH
  • Stranger: Hamish is alive and missing a parent he doesn't remember, hating me for refusing to show him pictures of you. I am alive and /still/ heartbroken because my husband lied to me and made me think he was dead, and worse still, making me still love you when I know and you know that I can't. JW
  • Yeah, Sherlock. Alive and "well". JW
  • You: [Delay] You were supposed to be happy. SH
  • Stranger: Didn't factor "emotion" into your equation correctly, then. JW
  • You: Accounting for all the emotions in the situation would have paralyzed me, so no. SH
  • Stranger: [Delay] Paralyzed is better than dead. JW
  • You: I would beg to disagree. SH
  • You: Death certainly has its appeals, all things considered. SH
  • Stranger: /Don't you dare/. Don't you /bloody/ dare, Sherlock. JW
  • You: There is no need to worry, John. SH
  • You: I have challenged myself to live my life in a way that would make you proud for the past decade. SH
  • Stranger: And how's that? JW
  • You: Eating. Sleeping. No unnecessary risks. No unnecessary cruelty. SH
  • You: And of course, no indulging in self-destructive behaviour of any kind. SH
  • Stranger: Oh. No, yes, I'm very happy to hear that. How come you never did any of that when I would ask you to, hmm? God, you're an idiot. JW
  • Stranger: Not that I care. I don't. JW
  • You: I am not entirely sure why. To honour you, perhaps. SH
  • You: There were a couple of incidents during my first year back. I needed guidance, I suppose. SH
  • Stranger: Oh. Well, we all need time to adjust, I suppose. JW
  • Stranger: [delay] I have to cook dinner, so I'm going to go. Goodnight, Sherlock. JW
  • You: Thank you, John. SH
  • Stranger: Goodnight. JW
  • You: Goodnight. I hope you sleep well. SH
  • Stranger: /Goodnight/. JW
  • Stranger: [five days later]
  • Hal won't shut up about you. Desperate to know who you are, why you contacted him, angry at me for deleting your number from his phone. Am I doing the right thing? Am I right in choosing for him? All I'm trying to do is protect him from what happened, and he hates me for it. What am I meant to do, Sherlock? JW
  • You: [Delay] You are his father. I have no say in this. SH
  • Stranger: That's not an answer to my question. JW
  • You: I am afraid I cannot form an objective opinion on this matter. SH
  • Stranger: /Sherlock/. JW
  • You: What do you want me to say? SH
  • You: That I dream about meeting him and wake up in tears because it wasn't true? SH
  • You: [Delay] I apologise. Ignore that. SH
  • Stranger: Sherlock, I... JW
  • You: I am sorry, John. That was inappropriate. SH
  • Stranger: [Delay] Jesus Christ. Er, I've got the afternoon off work, Hal should be home at fourish. Just... Come over, I suppose. JW
  • I take it you're aware of where we're living. JW
  • You: [Delay] I don't understand. SH
  • You: Why? SH
  • Stranger: Because he wants to know his father and he wants to know who you are, and because you want to meet him more than anything, so... JW
  • Killing two birds with one stone. Well. Three. JW
  • You: [No response]
  • Stranger: So... Will you come? JW
  • You: y SH
  • You: yes SH
  • You: Yes. SH
  • Stranger: Are you alright, Sherlock? JW
  • You: [Delay] soon SH
  • Stranger: We can reschedule for a later date, if you'd want time to collect yourself, or something. JW
  • You: no n SH
  • You: no need. panic attack. SH
  • You: [Delay] I'll be fine. Soon. SH
  • Stranger: Panic attack? Christ, are you alright? JW
  • Stupid question, of course you're not. It'll be fine, Sherlock, you can come and see Hal soon, alright? Calm down, I love you. Calm down, yeah? JW
  • Stranger: No, Christ, I didn't... Sorry. Just calm down. I'll see you later. JW
  • You: [Delay] I will be fine. See you. SH
  • Stranger: Alright. See you later. JW
  • You: [Delay] Is four thirty acceptable? SH
  • Stranger: Absolutely, sounds fine. JW
  • You: Thank you. SH
  • Stranger: It's alright. In hindsight, I suppose it was really selfish of me to hide him from you for so long. I can't imagine what it must have been like, and I'm... I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. JW
  • You: Don't apologise. SH
  • You: You did what you thought was best for Hamish. He is what matters. SH
  • Stranger: I... JW
  • [Delay] Yes. Yeah, he is. JW
  • You: I can only thank you for taking care of him so well. SH
  • Stranger: I did what I could. JW
  • You: [Delay] I will be there soon. SH
  • Stranger: Alright. We'll see you later. JW
  • You: An hour later, Sherlock stood in front of the door to John's building, bag of pastries clutched in a white-knuckled hand. Despite his earlier shower, the attack from earlier had left him feeling cold and clammy. Suppressing a shudder, he bit his tongue as he reached out to ring the doorbell. He had to keep his focus this time. Polite, friendly, well-behaved. He swallowed convulsively, hand twitching against his thigh.
  • Stranger: John had been pacing up and down the hallway of his flat, worrying his lip between his teeth in anxious nerves. Why was he nervous? He had no reason to be. This wasn't about him and Sherlock, this was about Sherlock and Hamish, who seemed perfectly content as he sat on the sofa. And then the doorbell rang, and John tensed up. Hamish leaped up from his seat, his father having told him that the man - Sherlock? Sherlock something... He'd forgotten - was coming to visit them. "I'll get it!" The teen yelped, before dashing down the stairs to the door and swinging it open.
  • You: Sherlock's mouth opened as the door opened, but no sound came out. Hamish. Hamish. Hal /Hal/. He stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, studying the boy. He was so...he was so /tall/. Fifteen...how could he already be fifteen? Having to consciously remind himself to breathe, Sherlock blinked once, twice, before closing his mouth. He swallowed thickly. "Hello," he managed at last, voice rusty.
  • Stranger: Hamish narrowed his eyes at the man. He'd seen him before, he definitely had. Somewhere... Who was he? Having realised he'd been staring and hadn't replied, the teen cleared his throat and took a step back. "Sorry. I... er, come in. Dad's upstairs, Mr...?" Crap, how embarrassing how he'd forgotten the man's surname. He shook his head, flicking his curls from side to side. Curls. Like the man's. No, shut up, brain. "Sorry. Er, Sherlock. Upstairs." He turned and lead the way, pushing a hand through his dark /curls/.
  • You: "I...Sherlock is perfectly fine," he said softly, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself anchored. Hamish. Hal. Hal, who was already almost taller than John and with dark curls. Hal. God. Sherlock let out a shuddering breath as he held the bannister firmly as he climbed the stairs after Hamish. He could not fuck this up. Blood was rushing in his ears and he could feel his heartbeat everywhere, but he kept it in by pure force of will.
  • Stranger: "Dad!" Hamish called, reaching the top of the stairs after a climb in silence. He had so many questions about what'd happened, but he supposed he shouldn't ask. It appeared that it was a difficult subject for his Dad, and after all, his father was the only reason Sherlock had come, anyway. "Sherlock's here." John had been in the kitchen, still furiously pacing but also making tea, and his head whipped around as he heard Hamish entering the flat, another set of footsteps behind him. "H-Hello..." He said quietly, clearing his throat as Sherlock made himself apparent in the room. He hadn't changed - thirteen years had done him well. Not even the coat was any different, nor scarf, nor hair, nor perfectly icy blue eyes. "Hello. Hi. Sherlock, H-Hal. Hal, Sherlock."
  • You: Sherlock was impossibly torn between Hamish and John, eyes flickering back and forth. Desperate for something to do, he held out the paper bag with fresh pastries. "Hello," he rasped. "I...I brought these. For...for tea." His free hand was curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. God, he was pathetic.
  • Stranger: Hamish couldn't help but observe the man in front of him. It'd been a habit he'd always had, looking people up and down and deciphering what he could. Collar up, like he was hiding something. Clear discomfort, in his facial expression and in his body language, rigid in place and tense. Nerves? Uncertainty? Clean shaven, but clearly not shaved in a while, manual blade. Showered not long ago, judging by the fall of his hair and the dampness. Late forties, same age as his Dad, around about. But what got Hamish was the hand. The way he curled it into a fist, looking almost painful.
  • Hamish did that, when he was anxious.
  • John cleared his throat and took the bag, smiling gently. "Th-Thank you, Sherlock. Very kind of you. I'll.. Er, I'll set them out. Tea, coffee?"
  • You: Sherlock closed his eyes briefly. He had not had tea in years. "Tea, please." Unconsciously, he reached out to scratch at a pale scar on the inside of his wrist, swallowing. He looked to Hamish. Fifteen, but one year ahead in school at least. Had been up late last night, possibly on the computer. Small callouses on his fingers, indicating....indicating...
  • Sherlock drew in a breath. Hamish played the violin. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice into submission. "I...Can I ask you about your interests?" he asked awkwardly.
  • Stranger: John nodded to the two of them, knowing Hamish would have a tea as well, before smiling sheepishly and heading off to the kitchen. Hamish watched him go, before turning his head to Sherlock. "Ah, of course..." He walked back to the sofa, taking a seat and indicating for the man to do the same. He watched the man scratch at the scar, but made no comment. "Well... I... I play the violin, really. Ever since I was little, don't remember ever starting, just... always. School, I like chemistry? I like science in general, minus physics, which I find dull but necessary..."
  • "He doesn't like the solar system," John called from the kitchen, unable to bite back the comment which made him smile. Hamish rolled his eyes.
  • "It's irrelevant!"
  • You: Blinking desperately to get rid of the lump forming in his throat, Sherlock fought to reply in a level tone. "I...I can do nothing but agree," he managed. "I...I used to play the violin," he offered, looking down at his hands. The callouses on his fingers had disappeared long ago. "I...I am glad you play. Few people do, these days." He swallowed, lifting his gaze hestitantly. "I...I work as a freelance chemistry researcher. If you were to have any questions..." He snapped his mouth shut, realising he had probably overstepped his welcome. "Never mind."
  • Stranger: John paused as he heard through from the kitchen that he didn't play anymore. His hands shook slightly, terrified. Sherlock had stopped playing, and he could only imagine why - because he'd broken the man. He shakily prepared the tea and pastries, and headed back out to the living room.
  • Hamish grinned excitedly. "You do chemistry for a living? That's so cool. I think I want to be a doctor, like Dad. I'm not sure, though. You should play the violin, again. I wouldn't have known, normally people who play have these little callouses on their fingertips? But you don't have any. I checked." He blushed, looking down. "Sorry, I get... A bit carried away. It's embarrassing, I just... I like to read people. Sorry."
  • You: "You don't need to apologise," Sherlock said softly. "I...I understand. Perfectly." Digging his front teeth into his tongue to assure himself that this wasn't yet another dream, he continued. "Medicine is certainly a... an interesting field. Plenty of applied chemistry." He curled a hand around his thigh and clenched hard. It felt as if he were underwater - everything was so surreal. "I am sure you would do...very well."
  • Stranger: Hamish nodded, his smile faltering. Everything the man was saying pointed to what he'd believed the first second he'd opened the door - but it was too strange to even comprehend. He bit his lip, just staring at him. He'd heard his Dad come in, heard him mention the tea and the pastries, but his focus was fixed on Sherlock, because he was certain that he was his "Father...?" All too late, he realised what he'd said, and he clamped his mouth shut, looking down. Shit. Oh, Christ.
  • You: Sherlock flinched, hand flying back to scratch at his wrist. Hamish had...figured it out. Of course he had, with that ability to read people, and Sherlock had just given him more and more clues without asking John for permission and he hadn't meant to, swear to God he hadn't meant to, he was just making polite conversation, which was obviously an idiotic idea, how did he even come up with it, that he, Sherlock Holmes, was going to do small talk, Christ, John was going to be so angry, he was going to lose this one miniscule chance he had been given because of a spectacular cock-up and God, he was so pathetic.
  • Too-fast and too-shallow breaths were passing between his open lips as the room in front of him was beginning to fall out of focus. Christ, no.
Preference 166: You're his date to an award show.

Harry: “Haz,” you called to him from the dressing room. “I don’t know if this one’s good enough.” “Well come out, then,” he instructed, standing from his place in the overstuffed store chair. When you stepped out of the tiny room in the baby pink dress with beautiful cutouts and detailing over the tummy, Harry’s eyes widened slightly and his mouth opened the tiniest bit, struggling to come up with an accurate response to the outfit. “You don’t think this is good enough?” Laughing with a small twinge of surprise, you shrugged and spin to make your way back into the changing room. “I guess if you feel that strongly, I’ll get this one.” Even though you couldn’t see him anymore, your boyfriend smiled brightly in your direction. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Liam: Too much? you typed, attaching a picture of the dress you planned on wearing to the next week’s award show and sending the text to Liam. Within a minute, he’d replied with a dorky picture of himself smiling and giving a thumbs up along with the response never, ur beautiful!! You smiled lightly and shook your head, shooting out a quick reply before stripping yourself of the gown and putting your baggy sweats back on. A few minutes later, you were tagged in a tweet, which, in all honesty, was no surprise. ’@Real_Liam_Payne: sneak peek of my prety babys dress for next Sundayy :) @yourtwittername’ Oh, how you loved Liam’s lame self.

Louis: “My mom picked my dress! I’m so proud of her style’s growth. Three months ago I wouldn’t have let her go near a store with me in the car,” you told an interviewer. She laughed and asked you a few more questions before letting you go. As a singer yourself, you were standing at the edge of the carpet doing interviews while you waited for the boys to finish up so you could all go in together. They’d been on the carpet for a few minutes now, and they were almost to the end. There was a steady buzz from the crowd while the five dorks were being photographed, but the noise intensified when Louis finally made his way over to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. You laughed when the boys began mocking the media, asking for pictures and autographs and interviews, which only made the crowd go crazier. “I hate you,” you said playfully, whacking Liam on the arm as he was the closest to you. Louis leaned into you so his mouth was by your ear, muttering a few words before dragging you into the building where the award show would began in a few minutes. “Tell your mom I said thanks for the dress by the way.”

Niall: Everyone was just about ready, and you were all about to pile into the black limo that had been sitting outside the hotel for almost an hour. You were in the lobby, with Lou and Zayn, waiting for security to tell you it was time to leave. Ever since you’d put on the kimono Lou had gotten you for the event, you’d been playing around with it like crazy, whacking Zayn with it until he was provoked to pick you up and sit you down. After laughing like a madman for five minutes straight, you got back up and stood by them to engage in conversation again. Niall had been on his phone for a few minutes, typing away and smirking occasionally. At one point he came over to you and placed the phone in your hands, revealing text messages with your parents in a group chat. The three of them had been talking about how you were both beautiful and a complete dork. When you finished reading, you smiled brightly at him, pecking him on the lips before grabbing his hand and dragging him out to the limo, where you continued to annoy your friends with your new favorite article of clothing.

Zayn: “Beb,” he called to you from across the hotel room. “Is it here yet?” Seeing as you couldn’t hear him, you didn’t even glance up from your phone. Sighing, he finished tying his tie before moving over to you and plucking a headphone from your ear. You innocently look up at him, slightly confused. “Limo?” “Not here yet.” He nodded, grinning lightly at you before moving back to the couch and taking a seat. Secretly, he snapped a photo of you sitting on the windowsill with one headphone in. Before you could notice what he was doing, he quickly opened his Twitter app and composed a new tweet. ’@zaynmalik: Almost on our way to a music award show and Y/N won’t take out her headphones !! Haha, music freak :)‘ You didn’t see the tweet until a few fans began to tag you in their responses, and even then, you simply smiled and informed your boyfriend that the limo had arrived.

anonymous asked:

OK, confession time. I don't *hate* Dean, but I'm not his biggest fan either. I won't list why I think this because I don't want you to hate me (honestly I love your blog a lot and the last thing I want is to cause arguments!). But I would like to know your honest opinion on why you think Dean is your 'moon and stars', as you tag him. How would you justify this. Because I'm in 2 minds about him and have seen lots of negativity, but I don't agree with all of that either. I'm sorry if you hate me!

oh nooooo, lovely! i don’t hate you at all!!! ♥ everyone is entitled to their opinion and disagreeing is not the same as hating. and there is nothing that i love more than dean winchester meta, so here goes:

Keep reading

xxi. like looking into a mirror (about to shatter with only a touch)

[previous]

Roland is hanging upside down on the monkey bars while one of the older Lost Boys- the one whose heart she’d taken, actually, though she finds she doesn’t particularly care when he shoots her a nasty look- sits on top of them, holding onto his feet. The little boy sees Regina approaching and beams at her, and she smiles back as she sits down on the bench beside Robin.

“You’re not here to tell me you’ve reconsidered,” he says, leaning back.

She shakes her head and watches Roland as Robin fishes in his pocket. He extracts a necklace, her chain with Daniel’s ring at the end, and says, “I believe this belongs to you.”

Keep reading

First Christmas - Requested (Michael)

CHRISTMAS IMAGINE NUMBER ELEVEN!!! Requested by Anon (Hiii can one of you write one where it’s you and Michael’s child’s first Christmas and it’s like really cute and fluffy) ENJOY!!!!

‘Baby, hey, come on babe wake up, (Y/N)’ you shuffle around in the bed so your back is to Michael as you hear him trying to get you up, you tell yourself if you don’t open your eyes you won’t wake up. Michael starts to shuffle behind you and then you feel his hot breath in your shoulder, his lips pressing onto your skin a little.

’(Y/N) come on, it’s Christmas’ he whispers against your skin, and you groan 'Michael go back to sleep’ you moan your voice groggy. 'No babe come on, we have to go down and put out Sawyer’s presents’ he bounces the bed a little making you whine. 'Michael he is sleeping there for we should be sleeping’ you complain but he huffs. You lie back so you’re facing the ceiling. 'What’s the time?’ You ask.

'Six, but we have to get up and be like Santa putting out the presents, and drink the milk and throw the carrot, please babe, I’m so excited’ he is almost bouncing in the bed. 'Michael he’s asleep let’s just have another hour’ you close your eyes but Michael climbs in you, bringing his lips to your jaw and kissing along. 'Please come and be Mrs Claus’ he whispers and you checked a little 'Sounds like you have a weird Santa fetish’ you giggle. His lips press into yours 'Maybe I do’ he mumbles it I your mouth. 'Did I really have a child with you?’ You tease. 'You did in deed darling’.

———-

'Nope, move them please’ he tells you, you look over your shoulder 'Again?’ You ask and he gives a flash of a smile 'Last time please’ he begs and you roll your eyes before turning back to the pile of presents and rearranging them. 'Michael I could be sleeping right now’ you whine 'Come on (Y/N) it has to be perfect, it’s his first Christmas’ Michael reminds you for the hundredth time this morning, you sigh standing up and looking that the room, the pile of presents making it look like something from a movie and you notice the huge grin playing Michaels lips 'perfect’ he whispers as he raises the camera to take a picture. 'Now let’s wake him up’ he bounces over to the stairs. 'WAIT!’ You whisper yell and he turns back to you with a raised eyebrow.

'Baby, this is the first time in months we have had time to ourselves where neither of us are falling asleep, how about we leave him to have a little longer’ you asks, making your way over to him and playing with the hem of his marvel pyjama bottoms, his body moves a step closer to yours, his lips taking no time to capture yours, his hands grip your waist and slowly travel to your bum. He bends a little and you jump wrapping your legs around him, he walks back to the sofa lowering yourselves in to it, your lips still together. He hovers over you as he pulls off your huge night top, leaving you in only your panties. He moves a little still hovering only half in the sofa and you start to pull up his shortcut throwing it behind him, and you take no time in grabbing his bottoms and easily pulling them down, you reach out…..'Fuck’ he mutters, standing up, bare he looks up at the ceiling and you stop too, Sawyer was crying.

'Typical’ you mutter, standing up, and pushing your chest into Michaels as you reach up locking your lips. 'Come on’ you laugh a little as you walk past the naked Michael and jog up the stairs, pulling your short back over your head as you go. You pick Sawyer up, holding him in your arms. 'Hello beautiful’ it’s only a moment later Michael comes I behind you 'morning buddy’ he half cheers taking him from you. You laugh heading out of his room and down the stairs. 'Mate we have to work in your timing, daddy still has to get some’ you hear Michael whisper to your five month old son. 'Michael’ you scold.

——–

'Oh my god, how fucking cute does he look like this?’ Michael cheers as he comes into the kitchen holding Sawyer at arm’s length so you’re able to see his elf costume, you laugh a little. 'Michael he is gonna hate you for this when he finds the pictures’ you chuckle, reaching to kiss your sons head. 'No he won’t, he will love it’ Michael falsely assures himself. As you turn back to turn the boiling potatoes up.

'You remembered to change is nappy right?’ you check glancing over your shoulder, Michael looks up eyes wide and lips bitten together, as he hums looking back down 'Yep, yeah of course I did’ you roll your eyes 'you’re a terrible liar’ you tell him moving over to take Sawyer from him. 'Come in buddy, let mummy do you nappy’ you coo as you head back upstairs.

——–

MICHAEL’S POV

'Oh look at you’ I coo as Sawyer grips my fingers in his tiny hands, and kicks his legs making him bounce. 'You’re gonna be a rocker like daddy’ I laugh as he opens his mouth wide letting out a churn. I rest him up against my legs so he is half sitting to. 'What’s taking mummy so long to fine it’ I huff talking to Sawyer, 'come on rock star let’s go get her’ I pick him up, spiking his hair as I walk to the kitchen.

'Hey mummy, how’s dinner going?’ I ask, watching her pour juice over the turkey. 'All good, I just popped the potatoes in the mixer, so I don’t have to mash them’ she tells me, my heart jump into my mouth, I rush over to the mixer shoving Sawyer into her arms as I pass her and grab the mixer switching it off. 'Holy shit, this can’t be happening’ I panic; I start to roll my sleeve up ready to put my hand in the bowl of mash.

'Michael Gordon Clifford, if you put your hand into my mash I will say no’ she scolds, 'babe you don’t un…’ I start but stop turn to look at her holder our son in her arm and the ring in her free hand a cheeky smile filling her face.

——–

YOU’RE POV

You hold the beautiful ring in your hand smiling at Michael, he sighs closing his eyes and grabbing his chest 'That was mean’ he laugh a little and you smile 'I love you Michael’ you tell him. 'Is that a yes?’ He smiles walking over and taking the ring. 'It’s a yes’ you nod, he sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lowers his head and presses his lips to yours 'Really?’ He whispers against your lips and you nod a little. You notice he has tears welling in his eyes. 'I love you so much’ you smash your lips into his. 'We’re getting married! I have a fiancé. Holy crap, I’m a dad and nearly a husband’ he rushes. 'I have to call my mum’ he pulls his phone out and you laugh.

———–

'Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Let your heart be light

From now on,

Our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Make the Yule-tide gay,

From now on,

Our troubles will be miles away.’ You look up from sawyer to look at Michael as he sings his son to sleep. You softly join in as you sing together Michael moves behind you wrapping his arms around you. As you both watch over your baby boy.

'Here we are as in olden days,

Happy golden days of yore.

Faithful friends who are dear to us

Gather near to us once more.

Through the years

We all will be together,

If the Fates allow

Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.

And have yourself A merry little Christmas now.’

'I think we gave him a good first Christmas’ Michael whispers in your ear and you nod 'I think so too’ you fall silent both watching him sleep peacefully. 'If you asked me last Christmas what we would be doing in a years’ time this wouldn’t have been my answer’ you whisper.

'I agree, this time last year we didn’t have a house because you came on your and we stayed with one of our parents when we were home, we had only spoke about kids once, and I’m pretty sure we spend Christmas Day eating, driving around to see everyone, eating more and a lot of sex’ Michael laughs, you hit his chest as you walk out of Sawyer’s room and into your own. 'And now we are here’ you sigh lying back, Michael climbs on the bed crawling up you as he straddles you. 'And I wouldn’t change a thing’ he adds.

From Chelsea

anonymous asked:

hi, im very scared for the queer community and i could just do with some reassurance that is gets better? bc im kinda a queer rep in my school for the kiddos but ffs im only 16 and i shouldn't have to feel this scared!! im trying to protect these 12/13 y/os from our own teachers. i walk them between lessons so they don't get beat up and i stand guard for them by their lockers and i just need to know that it won't always have to be like this please? you're brave and queer and okay right?

i was actually talking abt this yesterday w a few friends (one of whom i fell in love with when i was 19 & am maybe even falling a little back in love with now) & one of them had asked me if i could tell my 17 year old self who had just come out smth, like go back in time, what would i say? 

& i got kinda teary, bc its been five years since then. & i was like idk firstly i’d give my lil self a big soft fierce hug & then i’d prolly say like yknow what kid for a bit here this is gonna suck. ur gonna hurt & ur gonna be hurt & its gonna be messy & a lot of parts of ur world wont have caught up w you yet. ur blood family won’t feel like that anymore & they will say all the bad things you’ve always feared abt yourself. it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna be rly terrible & ur brain is gonna lose it for a while. u might want to die sometimes. it’s gonna suck. but then, one day, ur gonna meet someone you fall in love with. that’s gonna be hard too, but you will kiss her & it’s going to break you open. it’s going to write poems in your skin forever & it’s going to change your life. you’re gonna be brave that one time, & then again, & you’ll hold her hand & meet her parents, who won’t hate either of you, & things are gonna get a tiny bit better.

& then you’ll get older. your brain will calm down & you’ll have to take medication but it’s just going to make you sleepy sometimes after it smooths out the scars on your hands. you’re going to make friends who act as balms. you’re going to get your heart broken & you’re going to love people who stitch it up a bit. you’re going to graduate from university & you’re going to love what you studied, you’re going to be good at what you learned. you’re going to have a soft bed & you’re finally going to sleep without nightmares. & things will start to feel better then too, completely outside of anyone else.

& then!! you’re gonna see a lot of the world!! it’s gonna be kind of exhausting & draining & it’s gonna be the most beautiful thing. it’ll take your breath away in the sort of moments that don’t gut you but instead give your lungs something back from another life where maybe you weren’t always so sad. you’re going to see 17 cities from rooftops & not once want to jump. you’re going to fall in love in the middle of a blizzard & your hands are going to sting but not because your body is unhinging but just because they’re thawing from the cold. 

& then here’s the best part: you’re gonna move somewhere & finally, finally, want to stay. it’s not going to be easy & you’ll spend a good part of a very cold winter being pulled between longing & belonging. but it’s not because you aren’t accepted, it’s just because your love is gonna be big & confusing because you’re young. you’re the youngest you’ll ever be. it’s going to be 1:30 am in january & you’re going to be laughing on a couch while your best friend from high school is visiting you in this new home, & it’s going to be snowing, & she’s going to be in the hallway telling her girlfriend that she’s safe, that she loves her. you’re going to scoot closer to the person you love, have loved, will love, & when you kiss her she’ll taste like whiskey & cigarettes & maple syrup: smoke & sting & sweet. she’ll smell like snow & there will be some caught, still, on her eyelashes. it’s going to make things complicated & it won’t solve anything but it’ll be magic. 

months later it’s going to thaw, & you’ll be in your living room surrounded by balloons & your friends here, who have been sutures: they heal you all the time by leaving evidences of themselves. you’ll be drunk on beer & wine & turning 23 & you will have reclaimed your body in so many ways: you ate enough for dinner, you have as many tattoos as years of your life & some cover some scars that were too big to fade & some are just because you thought they were beautiful, or funny, or a little bit of both. it’ll be late & everyone will be loud & loving & for some reason you’ll scream the lyrics to natasha bedingfield’s ‘unwritten’ & it’s funny but later that night, when you open your bedroom window to let the smell of lilac in, it’ll seem sort of true (the rest is still unwritten). you’ll get a text in the early, early morning from a girl you loved so gently when you were younger, & you’ll get to talk to her again the next day for the first time in years. 

you’re going to have picnics with your friends in parks & at the beach & you’ll wear a swimsuit without second thought because it’s hot & your body is your own. you’ll hold girls’ hands sometimes, even if you don’t want to kiss them, because they’re your best friends & because you like them: delicate bones & gentle fingers & strong, radically unapologetic palms. you’ll ride bikes home like you’re little kids. like you’re in a music video where you’re a girl who gets to be young & who gets to fall in love in the middle of the night in the middle of the honeysuckle warmth (it’s been a long time wondering why the summer smells like sin & wonder).

it’s going to take a lot of suffering—to bear, you will bear a lot of the world—but someone you love will tell you that the word in urdu that sounds phonetically like suffer means ‘journey’ & it’ll make you smile. you’re going to have pressed a lot of needles into your skin to survive. you’re going to be sad sometimes still, because people you loved will have died young & it doesn’t get easier for everyone. but you’re one of the people who have made it this far. that’s going to mean something. you’re going to want to go help other people, feel like you can, & that’s going to get you through the days that still press against your ribcage like stones. you’re going to sit down & think about this a week & a half before pride, be interrupted by your groupchat to plan where you’re meeting for the parade & where you’re going to dance afterward.

you’re going to dance. you’re going to be brave & beautiful. not every day, not all the time—but you’re going to be warm, & fed, & loved—& it’s going to get better.

illexplain16  asked:

Ok, you probably won't read this, but I wanted to say one thing: When I see you, when I see this blog, I see a person- a very kind person- who is capable of so many things that I know I'm trash copmared to you. I see an amazing individual and it pains me that you think that this whole experience was a mistake. Because I honestly can't think of a single reason. You made friends. You inspired me and many other people. And the same goes for PJ. Don't just cut him off. Don't give up. Stay strong. <3

OH MAN….OK…

YEAH I kinda went on a ranting spree so I apologize to everyone about that. I was emotional…I wasn’t thinking fully straight.

((AND ALSO NO YOU ARE NOT TRASH SHHHHHh you are not trash!))


But here’s the thing. What I listed was a worst possible scenario. My brain loves to produce any kind of worst case scenario when I feel down. And after thinking about it… it is a possible last resort. I”m just gonna repeat that last set of words… it would be a LAST RESORT.

OH GOSH GUYS I’m not gonna give up on something like that THAT easily! Paper Jam has been the character I put the most time into and…. GOSH I have him integrated as his own being in Mediplane! However… there are people that do not see consequences when they do actions online. That and people just don’t bother to look up characters and ‘rules’ for those characters when they think of an idea. While I am fine with people making AUs with him without my permission (cause gosh… if my characters somehow fit in your AU idea then GO FOR IT!), but when people see one version of a character and spread that around where people assume that THAT is the official version of them… without going farther into where they came from… yeah. That kinda hurts a little. Not as much so for me as with others but yeah… it still stings. 

I don’t know why I am pretty chill with my own characters on the ‘misinterpretation’ topic… maybe it’s due to people always thinking that my characters were someone else’s from the beginning? Probably…

But yeah… that same thing applies for other stuff… like the sin. Something about google searching ‘paper jam tumblr’ …

oh wait…

wait…

*actually does that search *

….well dang that doesn’t really pull up me…

um…

OH GOSH he has a wiki article on him!

Oh…ok… what does it say for abili..

PaperJam Sans can both destroy and create, an ability inherited from both of his parents. He can summon special Gaster Blasters, which can bring objects to life. Anything he creates he can corrupt and kill it then bring it back to life if he so wishes. He is more powerful than both Error!Sans and Ink!Sans. Paperjam is also able to see into the void and other Au’s as a effect of being born from Ink!Sans and Error!Sans. It is not confirmed but Paperjam may be able to create/edit au’s

PFFF OH… OH GOSH… THAT’S INACCURATE…
HE”S NOT MORE POWERFUL THAN THOSE TWO!! AND GASTER BLASTERS?!?!? AAAAHAHAHA

*laugh*

Well then lets see the comm…

NEVER MIND DON’T CHECK THE COMMENTS OH GOODNESS IT’S AN ARGUMENT STORM THERE…

OH gosh… wait… no wait…

*laughs so much*

I WISH I CAN DO A VIDEO OF HOW INACCURATE THIS IS…WAIT

I”M GONNA START OFF TOMORROW BY CHECKING THIS WIKI OUT JUST AAAAHAHAHA JUST…

OH BOY YOU GUYS ON THIS WIKI KNOW NOTHING 

It’s… actually hilarious. 

Wait… does this count as my first anon hate? OH GOSH I DID IT GUYS I MADE IT TO ANON HATE LEVEL!

BUT ANYWAY…
LONG STORY SHORT
I’m not gonna give up that easily! 
I’ll still stay strong here with PJ as long as I can!

SO yeah…

(oh gosh I just need to laugh for a little bit now ooooh goodness)

anonymous asked:

Grant Ward is not a goddamn nazi he's an abuse victim.

Wow! I’ve had a long busy day and I get home and go on tumblr to relax and the first thing I see is Anon Hate.
Anon Hate from a Stand With Ward-er.
Nicest fandom who never bullies other people, my ass!

And maybe tagging this Grant Ward makes me just as big of an asshole as you are, but you and your fellow villain-woobifiers need to realize that SENDING ANON HATE REALLY DOESN’T HELP PEOPLE LIKE YOU!!!!

And now that we have THAT out of the way…

1) I personally have never said he’s a Nazi. That’s something other people say, but I genuinely don’t really have an opinion on that subject either way.
Some argue that Hydra are Nazis and some argue that they aren’t, and I could care less because regardless of who or what they are, Hydra. Is. Bad. And Ward is Hydra. Therefore, simple deductive reasoning would indicate that Ward is bad.
Is Ward a Nazi? Who the hell knows. Hydra is canonically worse than the Nazis were, but I really don’t care either way. Is Ward bad? Well duh! Sorry, but in my book if you murder innocent people/try to murder innocent people/willingly ally yourself with a group of people who does that for a living, you are a bad person.
That includes a myriad of many of my own favorite characters (Ward being listed among them). I love them for being bad.

2) I also never said Ward isn’t an abuse victim. But do you wanna know exactly how many murders that undoes? Zero!
Let me say that again to get it through your head.
Being an abuse victim does not undo murder.
Nor does being an abuse victim EXCUSE murder.
I’ll say that again too just to make sure you heard it.
Being an abuse victim does not EXCUSE murder!

Would you like me to name some characters who were a victims of abuse and did NOT turn into murderous assholes?
Clint Barton.
Bruce Banner.
Tony Stark.
I admittedly don’t know as much about Clint as I do the other two, but he was abused as a kid and STILL did not become a murderous asshole. Instead he became a hero.
Bruce Banner literally saw his mother murdered by his drunken father. And that isn’t even the worst thing that that man did to him. But he STILL did not become a murderous asshole. He became a hero. Even before being an Avenger, he was a hero, because a hero is somebody who will go out of their way to help others like he was doing at the very beginning of The Avengers.
Tony Stark was abused via neglect. His parents never had time for him, and his only friend was the family butler. Ever wonder why his computer system is named JARVIS and now HOWARD? Hint: it’s because Tony Stark’s father abused him (via neglect). Jarvis was his only real father. But he STILL did not become a murderous asshole. He had the potential to, but instead he became a hero.
Let me list one more person: Bucky Barnes.
That man was literally tortured and brainwashed for DECADES, but the INSTANT he had an opportunity to make a choice of his own, he chose the way of a hero and saved Steve’s life.

Now let’s look at Grant Ward.
Grant Ward was bullied by his brother. I am not going to bring his “my parents were worse” line into this because he was trying to con Skye, so who knows if that statement was true or not. But he was bullied by his brother. When he was old enough he was sent to military school which he ran away from because he wanted to murder his brother by setting his house, which his brother was inside, on fire. Because of that he was sent to juvie, and escaped their with the help of John Garrett.
He was then left in the woods (with a clear way back to civilization - and if you don’t believe that then please explain to me how he was able to steal all of those supplies), and was subsequently trained by Garrett to be the specialist we met on the show.

Nowhere in that list of events do I see something that will cause me to excuse Ward’s actions or decide that he’s not a bad guy JUST because he ONLY murdered people.
Grant Ward is a bad guy.
And you can NOT blame that all on Garrett because Ward attempted murder BEFORE Garrett entered his life.
Let me say that again to make sure you got it.
Grant Ward was attempted murder BEFORE John Garrett entered his life.

Being An Abuse Victim Does Not Excuse Murder!

Being An Abuse Victim Does Not Make You Incapable Of Choosing The Right Thing.

Being An Abuse Person And Being A Bad Guy Are Not Mutually Exclusive!

Being An Abuse Victim Does Not Automatically Make You A Good Person!

Now fuck off and leave me alone.