otp: i'll be your family now


Tv Show Meme: [2/5] otps → jim and pam (the office)

“Four years ago, I was just a guy who had a crush on a girl who had a boyfriend. And I had to do the hardest thing I ever had to do, which was just to wait. Don’t get me wrong—I flirted with her. Pam, I can now admit in front of friends and family that I do know how to make a photocopy. I didn’t need your help that many times.”

alberto-rosende  asked:

saphael + “don’t you dare walk away.”

~2x15 rewrite sorta~

“don’t you dare walk away.” Raphael snapped and grabbed Simon’s hands. He was tired of things being left unsaid between them.

“You won’t help so I need to find someone who will” Simon said and attempted to pull free from Raphael’s grip.

“Give me one good reason, just one, why should I help you after you stoop as low as the blackmail me using the only family I have left.”

Simon opened his mouth to respond but his words died in his throat.

“Let me know why I should help you after you’ve betrayed me and the clan?”

Simon’s eyes darted to the floor and his body loses his resistance and Raphael let’s go. Not only of Simon’s arms but the anger he’d built around his heart.

“Why do you keep coming to me for help Simon, why?”

“Raphael” Simon began but had no words, never realized what he did.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I still choose to help you after everything? Why I chose to help in the first place or are you still blinded by the red head to see straight? Just go”

Raphael turned his back and headed into the hotel when he felt a touch against his hand.

“I come to you because I know you’re always there and I-I’m sorry, I was ungrateful” Simon and Raphael snorted at the last bit “and I understand if you never want to help me again after what happened with Rosa, but trust me I would never hurt her”

“You think you’d be standing in front of me right now if I thought you would hurt my sister? I know how much family means to you Simon”

Raphael looked at Simon from over his shoulder, he looked so pale. Raphael remembered the night he brought him to the DuMort, he had the same scared, desperate look in his eyes.

“Stay as long as you need to, permanently even, we’ll talk about this” Raphael gestured between them “and everything else once I’ve figured your situation out”


His voice is deep and it rumbles. “What’s your name?” “Um…” I don’t know why I hesistate. But “Beatrice” just doesn’t sound right anymore. “Think about it,” he says, a faint smile curling his lips. “You don’t get to pick again.” A new place, a new name. I can be remade here. “Tris,” I say firmly. [ … ] The boy–Four–looks over his shoulder and shouts. “First jumper–Tris!” [ … ] Four sets a hand on my back and says, “Welcome to Dauntless.”


as she is,
as she was,
as I remember her.

anonymous asked:

Hey, I saw this vine and immediately I thought about Shitty walking into Jack's room while the gang are staying over and I was wondering if you wanted to write this? powergayde(.)tumblr(.)com/post/145982599637/furry-cabbage-mooglebilbo-imagine-your-otp please I'll give you my first born and a muffin

(i’ve had this in my inbox for like 3 months sorry! obviously nowhere near canon now but have fun reading anyway :))

It’s after a Falcs game midway through April that it happens. The entire Samwell Men’s Hockey Team (graduates included) squish into Dex’s pick-up truck and Jack’s family-sized car that he gets chirped about endlessly despite how useful it is, and end up back at his apartment in Providence to celebrate the win.

Jack feels like he’s floating. He’d scored the winning goal; there was a roaring in his ears as he whacked the puck neatly into the net past the Bruins’ goalie and there was that vibration deep in his bones - the crowd erupted and the Falcs won. He doubts the novelty of it (scoring in the NHL) will ever wear off, and he doesn’t want it to.

What’s difficult is hiding the effects of his post-game euphoria, because Jack wants nothing more than to take Bitty by the hand and lead him into his bedroom the second they step into his apartment. But the team is there and everyone wants to talk to him about the match and Jack doesn’t mind, really, he loves them all and misses them - Shitty especially, now that he’s at Harvard.

Still. He looks at Bittle with his wide warm eyes and cheeks flushed from alcohol and hands tapping at his phone ceaselessly and craves. Jack’s surprised no one picks up on it, but then the team is fairly inebriated by the time Jack gets antsy enough to actually make a move. 

He’s sitting sandwiched between Shitty - now on his fourth beer and definitely high, praising the glory that is Jack’s ass - and Bitty, whose head is resting on Jack’s shoulder. On the floor, the frogs are half-asleep next to Ransom and Holster, who are watching an episode of what sounds like Game of Thrones given that they keep screaming and clutching at each other every five minutes.

Jack ducks his head to speak to Bitty. “Hey, Bits,” he says, voice low, “You asleep?”

“No,” Bitty sighs and moves his head slightly, his breath tickling Jack’s neck, “Wanna go to your room, but.”

“No one’s going to - we’ll say you’re in the guest room.” 

So the pair of them get up and make a big show about Bitty going to Jack’s guest room only they scurry off to Jack’s room instead, giggling all the way down the corridor. Jack’s buzzed on a combination of the win, the beer and his very cute and very present boyfriend and he’s Bitty knows it in the way that his hands cover Bitty’s ass and his lips are all over him. 

Jack half-carries, half-walks Bitty to the bed. They flop onto it with identical smiles; Bitty dropping kisses up and down Jack’s neck and collarbones. Jack’s getting keyed up more and more every minute - yeah, he’s exhausted, but there’s something strangely relaxing about being with Bitty even when he’s hard in his jeans and Bitty is pulling both their shirts off.

They kiss like it’s the most natural thing on the earth and Jack forgets to breathe for a moment, too lost in the sensation of Bitty’s lips on his shoulder, on his chest, working downwards.

It’s good - better, actually. Jack falls asleep with a smile on his face.

Keep reading


I fell in love with him. But I don’t just stay with him by default as if there’s no one else available to me. I stay with him because I choose to, every day that I wake up, every day that we fight or lie to each other or disappoint each other. I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.

anonymous asked:

18 for cullen and elena :)

18. it’s my younger siblings wedding and my mother won’t shut up about how i’m going to die alone (I took this as more of a theme than a direct quote–hope you don’t mind!)

Cullen watched as the Herald of Andraste reached forward and adjusted one of the medals on his dress uniform, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she did so. They were standing in one of the many parlors in Castle Trevelyan, the warm afternoon sunlight catching her hair in a fiery halo as loose tendrils swayed in the sea breeze from the open window.

“Thank you again for doing this, Commander” she murmured, her eyes focusing somewhere around his Adam’s apple. 

Cullen caught up her hand between his own and brought to his lips so that he could brush a kiss across her knuckles.

“Everything will be fine, Inquisitor,” he soothed, stroking her trembling fingers and wishing his leather gloves were not between his touch and her silken skin. 

She looked up at him, her arresting green eyes wide–startled perhaps by his intimate touch. They were not here as a couple–they were not a couple, as much as he wished to the contrary–and he rarely touched her, but she looked so nervous it was the only thing he could think to do to calm her. 

She had appeared in his office, silent as a shadow. He just looked up and suddenly she was there, holding a plate of vanilla cookies with a shy smile on her lips.

“Commander, I was wondering,” she paused, placing the cookies down on his desk. “If I could ask you something?”

He hadn’t needed her words, he could tell she wanted something from him by the way her lips quirked around the secret she was holding back and the sparkle in her eyes despite the dim light of his tower.

“Yes? You know I am always at your disposal, my lady,” he’d replied, levelly, though his heart squeezed tight as she regarded him with those unearthly eyes of hers.

“Would you…have you ever been to Ostwick? It’s just that…well, my brother–William, that is, not Henry–my brother is, um, getting married. And it would only be slightly more scandalous to bring Dorian…but if you’d rather…I mean, i’ll go ask him, I’m sorry I bothered you!” With that rambling pronouncement, she turned on her heel and began to rush out of his office.

“Wait!” He called, half rising from his desk.

She paused, a flush creeping over her cheeks as she turned back to him.

“You want me to accompany you to your brother’s wedding?” He asked, unsure if he had fully understood her.

She nodded, running her hand through her hair and twisting a strand around her finger. “If um, it’s not too much trouble. It’s just that, well, you’re respectable, and I’d feel safe with you.”

Maker’s breath but he would do anything woman asked him to–even if it meant facing half the nobility in the Free Marches so she didn’t have to attend her brother’s wedding alone.

“Perhaps,” she began, her pink tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. “Perhaps you should call me Elena while we’re here. I may have…my father may be under the impression that…you’ve made overtures of courtship. To me.”

Cullen raised his eyebrows, an insidious feeling of hope swelling up in his chest. “I, um, why would he be under that impression?”

She frowned. “He may have said that it would be totally inappropriate for me to appear with a man at this wedding if we weren’t…if we hadn’t…” she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence. 

“I see.” Cullen nodded, his only disappointment in the fact that it wouldn’t be true–that he hadn’t been able to court her, hadn’t thought the time appropriate or her receptive or the hundreds of other reasons he drove himself mad in arguing. 

But perhaps, perhaps now with enough sincerity and earnestness he could show her how he felt. He could court her in front of her family and high society under the guise of already having done so, and maybe, just maybe, it would not be too late and he–they–would have a chance.

Cullen brushed his lips over her knuckles again, holding her hand against his mouth as he spoke. “As you wish, Elena.”