photos from the car

Love Unintentional

Originally posted by ohstylesno

Anonymous asked: Hey, I was thinking maybe you could write about Harry and Y/N being celebrities and having to do a PR stunt. They both hate PR stunts because they are in love with their current girlfriend/boyfriend (which r okay with the PR stunt). Harry and Y/N end up falling for each other.

Word Count: 2973

A/M:  This idea was amazing anon! I might have tweaked it a little bit, but thank you so much for sending it to me! I’m sorry it took forever for me to get this up. There will be a part two. Hope you enjoy! Tell me if you do! :) Xxx

*Other Parts: Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

You insisted on putting the last touches of your makeup yourself, now finishing your look with the right shade of red. 

“What do you think?” You asked turning to your boyfriend as you did a little spin to show off your dress. 

“You look great. Always do.” He said barely looking up. 

You crossed your arms and gave him an annoyed look. 

“What?” He asked half annoyed, “You ask the same thing every time, and ever since you started "going out” with him it’s become routine.“

"Not going to wish me luck?" 

"Luck on what? It’s another date with him isn’t it?”

“It’s a premier. I’m kind of nervous actually. It’s my first one”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’ve gone through this kind of thing before." 

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said waving him off 


It had been the routine for the last 6 months. You had become a rising star within the last two year; a star that came to the level of popularity that your agent had decided that it’d be good for you if you were to have a “fake boyfriend.” But never in your wildest dreams did you think that this fake boyfriend would be Harry Styles.


—7 months ago—

“What on earth would he get out of "dating” me?“ 

"Well,” your agent started, “He’s obviously very famous and popular around the world, and you need the publicity. You're this close,” he said giving a hand gesture that showed the small distance he was referring to, “This close to being the next huge thing. If you do this with Harry, it will prolong your career." 

You sighed, "Again, that wasn’t my question. What does Harry get out of it? I’m not that famous. What benefit does he get?”

Your agent frowned, “I thought you liked him. I thought you’d be thrilled to "go out” with him.“

"I am! He’s great, he’s cute. But more importantly he’s a genuine guy. I have met him before. I just want to know why. I don’t want to completely take advantage of him." 

He heaved a deep sigh, "You attract a certain audience and style and it’s something that his agent seems to like as well to broaden his own audience like he will for you.”

You were able to breathe a little easier, now knowing more about this seemingly odd situation. Even if it was something that’s been done since the very beginning of Hollywood and the fame industry. 


“Alright. I’ll agree to it if he agrees to it. But you know, we have to talk to [Y/BF/N] about this. I don’t know how he’ll react to something like this.” And you started to feel anxious at the thought. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him about it.” Your agent said, “Also we’ll have to meet with Harry and his agent to discuss the ground rules. You said you’ve met him before right?”

You nodded, “At a party about 2 months ago." 

"Good. I’ll call you when we’ll be meeting with him. It’s also when we’ll discuss how we’ll bring you two into the public eye.”

“Whoa. Hold on, shouldn’t we wait until he agrees to being my "boyfriend”?“

He gave a look, "Wait I didn’t mention it? He already has." 

"What? Oh. Well alright.”

Everything had be sorted out beforehand, and you and Harry had met to see what you would both agree upon. The terms for the relationship were both simple and basic.

No sex.

No spontaneous PDA 

And no spontaneous trips away. 

Everything had to have been planned and known beforehand. 


You didn’t have a doubt in your mind. The rules were too easy. You both were already taken. This was simply work. 


The first few times a month after the idea and rules were laid out, you had both made it look easy. But it wasn’t quite the “young love” that people thought it would be.

But your agents and the managing teams had an idea to make the relationship seem more believable. 

So this time the scene was set- a table near a window of a very public restaurant. The lighting was very dim just enough to enhance the candlelight that was at every table, but the focus on you and Harry was very clear. 

The place wasn’t busy… yet; but with the whispers of people nearby, including the staff, you knew that the plan was working and that by the time you were to both walk out,  the paparazzi would be everywhere. 


Just as planned. You thought. 

Keep reading


I have escaped the land of spiders and death and have almost recovered from crippling lack of sleep. Almost. 

More importantly, I’m planning to do an extra long day of Liveblogging to celebrate the start of Tsubasa Month on May 1st, which is only a few days away. 

Of course, because Timezones exist purely to spite me, it won’t technically be May for everyone. BUT, YOU KNOW. WHEN HAS LOGIC EVER STOPPED ME BEFORE?

Here is a rough guide to when I plan to start:

Don’t panic if that’s a strange time for you. I should be doing it for quite a while, and you won’t miss anything if you’re out living your life.  

I’ll also answer the messages still waiting for me before then, but not right now. Now I’m just going back to bed. 


Posting this just to share and kind or remind everyone that a lot of the popular places you see are not quite as wild as you would think by looking at most photos. You can literally see Multnomah Falls from the comfort of your own car. And now I’m not criticizing these places, because I am so glad that there are beautiful places people who cannot hike up miles on miles are able to see these places easily too. I’m just sharing because at least I think it’s kind of nice seeing the other side of what we normally see plastered everywhere online. Very thankful to live in a place where views like this are easy to come by, but also thankful I’m able to journey deeper in to see other places as well. 

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 3

First of all, I have to shout out a MAJOR thank you to @diversemediums and @outlandishchridhe for helping me puzzle this one out. This story is a fun challenge for me as I don’t have any idea where it’s going. I’m figuring out the bits and pieces as I go, but it’s as much a mystery to me as it is for you. Anywhoo. Here’s the next part. Hope y’all like it!

Catch up on part two HERE

Three days. It had been three days since he’d had that vision of Claire, since he’d seen and felt every part of her. Over and over he’d tried to study the vision, write down as many details as he could. It wasn’t an effort to be perverted, but to try and understand what the hell the vision had meant.

He hadn’t given Miss Beauchamp his number, or asked for hers, because he had a feeling she’d come around by the end of the week. She was far too curious about him and his powers to stay away.

Staring down at the journal, he traced the curve of her lower lip as she bit down on it. The words scribbled beneath it, he barely remembered writing.

Have I found her? Has the White Lady finally come to me? What am I to do now? If she is truly the White Lady, born of True Love, what does it mean? God, she is more beautiful than I could have imagined…


Five days after he’d met Miss Beauchamp, he prepared tea and biscuits. If his inkling was right, she’d be by right around tea time. Right on time, she knocked on his door. He opened it and tried to give her a polite, friendly smile.

“Miss Beauchamp. Pleasure to see you again.”

When her eyes met his, his smile faltered. That odd, golden color brought back sharp images of his vision. Glowing, glittering, wide with passion. Watching as the corners of those eyes scrunched as they squeezed shut. How they could hold his gaze like he was locked in a trance.

“I… I meant to be by sooner, but… you know. Life and such.”

Her eyes could only meet his for a moment. Before they darted away, pink coloring her cheeks.

“You came when I expected you.”

I want you to come with me, beloved.

He shook his head, that echo sending fire through his veins. She hadn’t said that in the vision, so where had it come from?

“Right. Look, about what happened last time… I still don’t really believe all this. I don’t know why I’m here, to be honest.”

Holding the door open, he waved her inside. They went back to the same room as before, the tea and biscuits waiting.

“You’re going to read my leaves again?”

“No, I don’t think so. Your leaves were… complicated. I think today we’ll go with something simpler. This is just tea.”

Narrowing her eyes, she accepted the cup from him and took a sip. First, she stared down at the cup in shock, before taking another eager drink.

“This is-”

“Your favorite, yes?”

“How did you-”

With a smirk, he tapped the side of his head.

“Psychic, remember?”

They fell quiet as they had their tea. He noticed she’d pushed herself to the edge of her chair opposite him, her body language closed off. Something was different today.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, Miss Beauchamp. I mean you no harm.”

Her brows lifted as she put the cup down on the table.

“And how would I know that? Because you said so?”

“Fair point.”

While they’d been drinking, he’d been studying her, learning about her. His gift came in the form of seeing the past or the future. He couldn’t read minds, though he was very good at reading faces, so people often assumed he could.

He only caught bits and pieces of her younger life. There was a car accident, which had a heavy impact on her. A nomadic young existence which left her in want of a permanent home. Something inside her was afraid, hiding away in a dark corner hoping never to be discovered.


“What?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Prove to me you’re a psychic and not some fraud Geillis hired to torment me.”

A deep breath, calming his thoughts, pushing all else to the back of his mind, he focused on her. Navigating his way carefully through memories, he followed a strong feeling until he saw what he needed.

She was there, sitting on her bed. Geillis giggled in the front room, still occupied with her latest catch. Claire took an envelope out of the drawer in her nightstand, pulling out the photos. For a long time, she just stared at them.

His eyes opened slowly, rising to meet hers. One of her eyebrows was lifted in question, clearly waiting for him to blurt out a vague idea she could confirm or deny.

“When Geillis is busy,” he said before he paused to clear his throat. “You sneak into your bedroom to be alone for a moment. There’s an envelope in your nightstand drawer with photos of your parents. The only ones you have left, I believe. You look at them every night, but you’ve never told your best friend.”

The echo of her memory sang through his thoughts still, fading as he let his concentration lapse.

“You used to hold a mirror beside your mother’s portrait, just to see how much like her you look. You haven’t done that in years, not since you started to really look like her.”

Claire’s mouth was hanging wide open, eyes bright with shock. She began to shake her head slowly back and forth, trying to deny what he’d just told her.

“You can’t possibly… No one even… That can’t be true… You can’t… How…”

“Am I wrong?”

“Well… No, but you must be. You can’t have known about…”

“Geillis doesn’t know about the pictures, so she couldn’t have told me. You’ve never seen me before the other day, so I haven’t been spying on you. How else would I know about them, and that you look at them every night, if I wasn’t a psychic?”

She suddenly crossed her arms over her chest and pulled her legs up onto the chair. Tears welled in her eyes, opened wide in fear. His heart turned over at the sight.

“You said you wanted me to prove it. I’m sorry if I took it too far, but it had to be something Geillis didn’t know about already.”

“Those… Those are the only photos I have…”

“It was a car crash, that took them from you?”

“Stop doing that!” she snapped, hastily wiping the tears from her face.

Jamie held his hands up, palms out in surrender.

“I’m sorry, Miss Beauchamp. Sometimes… This gift of mine gets away from me sometimes and I forget what it feels like to others. I apologize.”

Claire’s eyes were on the floor, glazed and unfocused. Had he just gone too far?


There was no way this man she’d only met once before could possibly know that. Not even if he’d been outside her window. But he knew. He knew that she had two photographs. He knew that she looked at them almost every night. That she’d held a mirror up when she was little. That she’d lost them in a car crash. How had he said it? A car crash that had taken them from her.

That loss, at such a young age, had started something in her. The first loves she’d ever had, her doting parents, had been snatched away from her. The man that had raised her had also been stolen away.

“Why?” she blurted, still not looking at him. “Why did you ask me to come back? Just so you could pry open my secrets?”

“No,” he said quickly, voice very gentle. “Not at all. I’m deeply sorry for causing you such distress.”

After hearing that deep, Scottish burr in her dream, she thought she could hear a hint of it in his English accent. She’d noticed it the first time they’d met and had wondered why he hid it. Now, taking in everything he’d just told her, Claire thought she now knew all too well. Movement caught her eye and she looked up to see him start to reach out for her, only to stop himself and sit back in his chair.

“So why? It’s obviously not because of Geillis.”

“I truly don’t know. There’s something that…,” he paused, as if rethinking what he was going to say. “What I said before is true. I’ve never read leaves like yours. Or seen such unique lines on a palm. And then the vision-”

He stopped suddenly and her eyes flashed up to his. Vision? She’d had an intensely erotic dream about him a few nights before, but she’d pretended it had been exhaustion and the wine at dinner with Frank. Her chest felt tight as her tears of sadness changed to tears of anger.

“What. Vision.”

“Miss Beauchamp, you have to understand-”

“Did you see my death!?”

“What? No! No, I rarely see someone’s death. No, I see snippets of the past, or vague notions of the future. That’s all.”

Now it was his turn to look away from her. The tips of his slightly pointed ears turned pink and then deep red. Her heart began racing as she watched the red deepen.

“What the hell did you see?”

“I’m not sure I should say. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me. I have no control over these visions.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to walk out of here and you’ll never ever see me again.”

Jamie’s eyes fastened on hers again, their earnestness making her swallow. His brow furrowed in thought as he chose his words.

“It… It came in glimpses. Two people, waiting for each other. He watched her wander through a field, enjoying her freedom. Then… It skipped, not flowing clearly. Then they were together, him above and her below. They were desperate, lusting, like they hadn’t been together in some time. Married. They wanted a child. He wore a kilt. He… They…” he paused, taking in a shallow breath and letting it out again. “I could taste her, feel her quivering beneath me.”

Jamie opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. Claire found herself on the edge of her seat, her nails digging into the underside of the chair she sat on.

“And that’s it?”

“I woke before they… Concluded their meeting.”

Claire swallowed, her belly tightening at the memory of that very moment she thought her body was on fire, lost in sensation, before she’d awoken next to Frank.

“He had blue eyes,” she whispered. “Like yours.”

“I don’t know that. But her eyes were… Very much like yours.”

“No, I mean… I saw him. His eyes. I… I felt something. Like I was there. Like it was real.”

Claire heard Jamie’s breath hitch slightly; watched him gaze at her, his lips slightly apart. She knew without truly knowing that his mouth was soft and warm. His eyes dilated, and his breath came shorter. Claire barely had enough time to realize something was happening when he spoke.

He recognized the feeling, but was confused. It never happened during his waking hours.

Tears ran down her cheeks, flushed from anger or passion he didn’t know.

Claire was looking at him with wide eyes, concerned.

“Please,” she pleaded with him. “It must be tonight.”

The electric lights around him came into sudden, sharp focus.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely suppressing his Scottish accent. “I’m not sure what’s happening.”

Then everything around him tilted sideways and slipped away from him.

“Hush, mo nighean donn. I’ll no’ deny ye. Haven’t ye learned that by now?”

“Please! It has to be tonight!”


She hiccuped with a sob and met his eyes.

“It just does. Please.”

He smiled at her and checked around the corner. The rest of the castle was asleep, giving them a few precious moments to sneak out undetected.

“Come wi’ me. I’ve just the place.”

Jamie came back to himself with a sudden snap. Prying his eyes open, he looked at the tear-streaked face before him, golden eyes glinting.

“Mo nighean…” he croaked, reaching out as if to wipe the tears from her cheeks. But a mind-numbing pain seared through his head and he cried out, clutching his hair. “Ifrinn!”

Claire nearly launched off her chair.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Jamie, what’s wrong!?”


“Do you have aspirin somewhere?”

He pointed in the direction he hoped the bureau was. The drawer squeaked as she pulled it open. Rattling of pills against the plastic bottle sounded like a drumline in his head.

“Here,” she said, a cool hand beneath his chin. “Open up and drink. Careful… That’s it.”

Finally, the pain began to ebb away, slowly receding like the ocean’s tide.  

“Thank you,” he said after clearing his throat. “I apologize for that, Miss Beauchamp.”

Opening his eyes slowly, he saw that she’d moved back to her chair.

“That looked like a nasty migraine… lad.”

His jaw clenched and his heart began to race.

“What do you mean?”

“It seems that you know my secrets and I know yours.”

“And what secret of mine have you learned?”

“You’re not English. You’re a Scot. And I suspect you’re hiding it for a good reason, probably to keep yourself under the radar of whoever.”

Staring up at her, he felt the blood drain from his face.

“Please… You mustn’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. Like I said, we know each other’s secrets now. But… About that migraine of yours. If that gets any worse, I’d go and see someone about it. That can be a sign of something serious.”

“I will. Thank you. I’m afraid I’ve kept you longer than I intended.”

She stood and he carefully got to his own feet. He walked her to the door where they both hesitated.

“Will I… Ah… If that was a vision of yours, why did I have the same exact dream?”

“I’m not really sure about that. It was a rather strong one, for me, and it felt as if it had a connection to you, somehow. Perhaps that was why. I’m truly sorry it bothered you. I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“Good. I suppose… Good day, Mr. Fraser.”

“Good day, Miss Beauchamp.”

Jamie closed the door behind her and thought about what had happened. He’d never had a waking vision before. That was new - and very strong. Perhaps he’d speak with Jenny or Murtagh about it, see what they thought. Jenny knew more about it than he did, she’d known Willie longer.

His heart clenched, thinking of his lost elder brother. No. No I must not think of that. For a moment, he allowed himself to contemplate Claire, to see when she might be back. But just as he was beginning to get a glimpse of her coming in the front door, his head began throbbing. Best wait a while before doing that.

Nearly two weeks later, Jamie finished preparing his afternoon tea when a knock came at the door. Smiling, he thought it might be Claire, come to see him again.

“Who’s that, lad?”

Murtagh came out from the kitchen, frowning at the door.

“It’s probably Claire. She’s due back soon.”

“And why’s that? She’s got a man already.”

“Curiosity, Murtagh. She’s a smart lass and I’m a mystery.”

Jamie pulled the door open and his smile dropped from his face.

“Iffrin! Murtagh!”

Continue to Part 4

The Return (Part 2)

Originally posted by theexpendablegirl

A/N: A part 2 because…Jeff. That’s it. Just because of Jeff. :D

Past Part: The Return

Pairing: Jeff Hardy X F!Reader

Summary: Your struggling to believe he’s here to stay and won’t hurt you again. Jeff just wants to make things right.

Warnings: Swearing? NSFWish?

Word Count: 1800+

You walked through the curtain, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You defended your title successfully. People patted your back as you walked past them. “Great match.” You looked up and see Jeff standing with his back against you locker room door.

“Yeah. Thanks.” You muttered, tucking your hair behind your ear. Jeff pushed off the door and stepped to the side, letting you open the door.

He followed you in, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Are you ever gonna let me make this right? You haven’t spoken three words to me since our talk.”

You dug through your bag, trying not to look at him. Jeff took a seat on the couch, his arms laying along the top. “I’m not looking to date anyone right now.”

He grunted. “I’m not anyone.” You stopped for a moment. He was right. He wasn’t just anyone. “It doesn’t matter, Jeff.”

You pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. “It does matter. I never wanted to hurt you. I told you why I did it! I told you I still loved you, even after all these years. I could never get you out of my head. I tried. I really did. I was stuck on you.”

You looked at your boots. “I’m still stuck on you.” You whispered.

You walked out into the parking lot, pulling your suitcase behind you. “Hey! Y/N!” You looked over your shoulder and seen the Hardys making their way to you.

Matt was the first to come walking up beside you. “Can we catch a ride with you? Ours left early.” You bit the inside of your cheek. You really wanted to say no. You really did. You couldn’t say no to Matt, he never did anything to you

“Yeah, sure.” Matt helped load all the bags in the car while Jeff took the passenger seat. You slid into the driver’s side and Matt climbs in behind you.

You honked your horn at the fans lining the outside of the building, waving out the open window as the fans cheered.

You leaned your head against your hand, while the boys chattered back and forth about the show. Your mind was playing over everything after your breakup.

You wiped away your tears with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You placed framed photos and books into a box. Jeff was seated in the living room watching a football game.

The sound of the announcers told you he didn’t care that you were packing your things or that you couldn’t even stop yourself from hiccuping from your heavy crying.

You pulled your bag over your shoulder and picked up the box. Opening the door to the bedroom, your eyes flicked over to Jeff on the couch. He was now laying on it, ankles crossed, arms behind his head.

You look up, trying to will yourself from crying. “Bye, Jeff.”

He grunted and through his hand in the air, not saying two words to you.

What you didn’t know was tears were welling in his eyes, his hands were clenched as he tried not to go after you.

“Take exit 14!” You were jerked from your thoughts when the GPS sounded through the now quiet car. Jeff looked over at you, raising a brow. “Are you okay?”

You tightened your hand around the wheel. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Matt shifted in the backseat making you look through the mirror, he was sleeping.

“When did he fall asleep?” You asked, flicking your blinker on. Jeff shrugged. “Around twenty minutes ago.” You nodded your head.

“Are you hungry?” Jeff nodded his head quickly. “Starving.”

“Let’s seen, it’s 12:25. I highly doubt there are any restaurants open, but we can get fast food or stop at a gas station and pick something up there.”

Jeff reached around and hit Matt in the knee. “Huh? Are we at the hotel?” He asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “No. We want to get something to eat. Do you want fast food or gas station food?”

Matt slumped back into his seat. “I don’t really care. Whatever you guys want.”

You pulled your bags behind you, Matt and Jeff following. You got paired with the duo for the night. You scanned your keycard and opened the door, pulling your things in behind you. You held the door with your foot, letting them pass you into the room.

You let the door swing shut behind. The boys had quickly shoved pass one other and tossed their suitcases on what bed they wanted. Leaving you with the couch shoved against the wall.

wanted. Leaving you with the couch shoved against the wall.

You sighed and pulled your things to the far end of the room, tossing your bags on the couch and plopping down next to them.

Jeff began pulling the food from the bags as Matt rummaged through his suitcase. “Here. This is your order.” Jeff said, waving the bag of fast food in the air.

You pushed yourself from the couch and took the bag from Jeff. He then handed you your drink. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch you know? I wouldn’t mind you sleeping in my bed.”

“It’s fine. I’ve slept on worse things than a couch.” Jeff frowned. “I’m sure. But really I don’t mind. The bed is big enough to share.”

The night quickly progressed from there, everyone ate, showered and now was getting cozy in their respective spots. Everyone but you. The couch was like a rock. No give, no plush and it was long enough.

You sigh and looked over to the boys. Matt was just closing his eyes, spiraled across the whole bed. Jeff was laying in his bed, one arm tucked behind his pillow, the other laid across his stomach.

You sat up and pulled your blanket with you when you stood up. You shuffled over to Jeff’s bed and just looked at him. He smiled, patting the space next to him.

You crawled in and laid your head against his shoulder. He shifted, wrapping his arm around you. “Are you ever going to let me fix this?” Jeff whispered. You closed your eyes.

“I know you said you were here to stay, I just can’t shake the feeling that you’ll break my heart all over again.” Tears welded behind your closed lids.

Jeff ran his fingertips up your back, his lips ghosting across your forehead. “I’m not going to break your heart again.”

“Open your eyes and look at me.” You didn’t move. “Come on, Darlin’. Look at me.”

“Slowly you opened your eyes and looked at him. Jeff brought his hand up to your face and brushed his thumb under your eye. “No crying. No tears.”

Jeff tucked some loose hair behind your ear and then cupped your cheek. “I won’t do that. I won’t let you go ever again. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

You leaned forward and placed your lips against his in a needy kiss. You needed to feel his lips again. You needed to feel his hands roam your body, gripping your hips, brushing across your back, pulling at your hair, brushing down your legs. You needed to feel his beard brush across your neck, chest, and thighs, leaving marks in his wake…You needed him with every ounce of your being.

The loud snort from Matt forced you two to break away. “I forget he was in here!” Jeff whispered. You struggled to hold back laughed as you buried your face into his chest.

Jeff cupped the back of your head and buried his face into your hair, laughing quietly. The bed underneath your bodies shook from your laughter.

You use your key to enter the apartment that was once yours. Jeff would be at the gym, which would give you enough time to grab a few things you forgot and give back something to Jeff.

You removed the apartment and mail key, placing them on top of the photo you were giving back to him. It was his favorite photo of the two of you.

If you were being honest with yourself. You didn’t drive all the way over here to grab a few shirts you left, or return the keys. It was because of this photo.

His favorite photo. The one where you were asleep on his lap, your head resting against his shoulder while he played video games, a throw blanket draped around you. Matt took the photo after seeing just how stupid you both looked

Jeff never thought it was stupid. He loved that photo. He always wanted you to take it out of the frame so he could put it in his wallet. You never did. Not until now.

Lodged between Jeff’s cash in his wallet was that photo. You pushed the photo out just enough with your finger to see he folded himself out of it.

“Did you find it!?” Jeff yelled across the parking lot. You quickly pushed the photo back into place, flipped the wallet shut and slid from the car, shutting the door. You waved his wallet in the air, signaling that you did find it.

You would never have thought he would have a photo of you in his wallet. Still after all these years.

You didn’t know why it surprised you really. You still had a photo of Jeff in your wallet. Only it was far better tucked away.

You handed Jeff his wallet and smiled at him when he thanked you for going back to look for it.

“I…I have a photo of you in my wallet still.” You said, looking up at him. Jeff glanced at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I never could take that photo out. Every time I tried I felt like I was taking my heart from my chest.”

Jeff stopped then and opened his wallet, he looked at you from under his lashes before taking the photo of you from his. “I put this in my wallet after we broke up. At first, I told myself it was to remind me as to what I lost, but really it was because I needed to see your face.”

“Jeff, I love you. But I’m scared. I’m not going to lie. I’m scared that if we go down this path again and we don’t make it…It’ll destroy me.”

Jeff looked at you, his eyes glassing over. “I’m not going to hurt you like that again.”

You smiled sadly. “I know. That’s why I want to really, truly give us another chance. No beating around the bush. Me and you together again.”

Jeff smiled and pulled you into his body, he kissed your lips in a rough quick manner. “We tell each other everything. No matter what. No lying. No cheating. Nothing like that. If something has to be said, say it the way it has to be said.”

Jeff nodded his head. “I’m never letting you go. Like I said. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

The Panel

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Character Ship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 692

Request:  “Imagine being the romantic couple of Spencer and is married to Matthew announcing that you are pregnant with the cast and the fans are excited because you are very cute 😆 pleeasee” from anon

Originally posted by cm-monk

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The BMW Bavaria was the M5 before the M5 existed.

These photos are from the 80s, and this car is currently sitting in Kadunza’s parking lot. The original owner of this Bavaria had Korman Motorworks rebuild the entire car with triple Weber sidedraft carburetors, Korman suspension, and Recaro seats. The owner then sold the car to a man in Knoxville, Tennessee. Since these photos were taken, the previous owner allowed this Bavaria to rust and decay. Kadunza picked up this car as a candidate for future restoration. Follow Kadunza on Facebook to keep up-to-date on this complete Korman restoration.

I absolutely had to post these photos, from The Dodo. Up in Ontario, this coyote was hit by a car, had multiple pelvic fractures, and was dying of mange. He eluded rescuers for three days, but was finally nabbed. The rescue center has fixed his fractures and are working on the mange. The plan is to release him into a “safe” area after he heals.

But check out that face! Perky eyes and a smile. This coyote can be an ambassador for coyotes generally!