ruggedly good looking

Stiles- I’ll Stay

Requests-  Heyy, could you do an imagine where y/n is a young werewolf (like 15) and she moves to beacon Hillis, but before she can even go to school or something, she get cought by hunter and they torture her for information (she doesnt heal though). And by the time she’s saved by the sheriff, she completere shuts down, and doesnt talk to anyone, but when Stiles sneaks in to talk to her, she talks back, because she feels like she can trust him. Btw you’re very talented😊💕  /  Liam/Stiles request: Where the reader is friends with the pack and has a crush on (Liam/stiles) and there is a powerful thunderstorm one night and she is afraid. However,(stiles/Liam) knows she is scared of them. Reader would call them but doesn’t want to, she is lonely but then (stiles/Liam) end up comforting reader and fluff!! (Pick whichever) :) thank you!!!

A/N- So I picked Stiles for the last one, and I think I did a good job of tying these two requests together. I’ve got one more request in the inbox to write.

“What’s up, Parrish?” Stiles asked, giving the front desk a friendly slap as he sauntered past it.
“Stiles, your dad’s in the middle of something right now,” Parrish greeted him. “He said you could wait out here and not to go in his office.”
Stiles paused and pivoted on his heel, looking back at Parrish. The Deputy was typing away at his computer, his green eyes no longer focused on the younger boy, and he frowned.
He leaned down and grabbed the screen, causing Parrish to raise his eyebrows at him. “Stiles, can I help you?”
“What kind of something?”
Parrish fixed him with a look that told Stiles he knew exactly what he was trying to do. “Something.”
Stiles tilted his head and feigned a wounded look. “So this is how it’s gonna be.”
“You know you don’t actually work here, right?”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Stiles told him, scratching his chin. “That’s funny, considering me and Scott solve most of the cases that come through here.”
Parrish stared at him, obviously unimpressed. “Stiles, sit down.”
Stiles sighed, dramatic and loud, and stalked over to sit in one of the chairs across from the front desk. “Fine.”
No sooner had he dropped down than the door to his dad’s office opened, and he jumped up from his seat.
The Sheriff, who had been rubbing his head in his hands a second before, looked up. “Hey kid, I’m sorry about dinner. We’ve just got a lot going on right now.”
“Anything I can help with?” Stiles asked him.
Stilinski hesitated like he was considering it, but then said, “No.”
It was a split second of hesitation, but Stiles still caught it.
“Dad, come on,” he pleaded. “Is it something supernatural?”
“Keep your voice down,” his father hissed, pulling him closer. “Stiles, this doesn’t involve you.”
“But if I can help-”
His dad brought a hand to the back of his head, causing him to yelp. “Stiles, I said no.”
Stiles huffed. “Fine. Will you at least tell me if Scott can help?”
Stilinski pursed his lips. “Possibly. But she’s not talking right now, alright?”
“She?” Stiles asked, his interest piquing even more.
His dad glared at him, and looked toward the closed office door, but then he sighed.
“Clark responded to a call Downtown about an hour ago. A woman walking her dog heard a girl screaming from an abandoned house. Clark called out, heard someone running away, and when she finally got inside, she found a girl, lying on the ground. She was bloodied up and hurt, but when Clark tried to help her, she started to heal, and her eyes turned yellow.”
Stiles swallowed. “Is she okay?”
“She’s mostly healed,” the Sheriff told him quietly. “But she won’t say a word.”
“What?” Stiles asked. “Let me talk to her.”
“No,” his father told him firmly. “Absolutely not.”
“Then at least let me call Scott!”
“I’ll call Scott,” the Sheriff said. “For now, for the love of God, Stiles, just sit down.”
Stiles bit the inside of his cheek, glancing back at the office. “Fine. Fine, just call Scott.”
His father shot one last warning look at him before turning down the hall, and walking into an empty office to make the call. The minute he disappeared, Stiles glanced around the station carefully.
Parrish was still at his computer, typing away, and Clark was writing up a statement in the corner. The station was buzzing with officers refilling coffee or filling out paperwork, and no one seemed to take much notice of Stiles.
He slowly headed toward his dad’s office, shot one glance behind him to make sure no one was looking, and then slipped open the door.
He ducked inside, quickly shutting the door and nearly tripping on his own feet. He let out a relieved breath, and he heard a soft, weak laugh from behind him.
You probably wouldn’t have made a sound, if it hadn’t been for the way the boy had stumbled into the room. He was tall, brown-haired and seemed to have no grace or balance whatsoever.
Despite the terrible past couple of weeks and everything you had endured, you were relieved that you were still able to laugh about something. Then the guy whirled around at the sound, and you flinched back in your chair.
The Sheriff had left you there a few minutes ago, after he had given up trying to coax anything out of you. He seemed nice, but all anyone had done for weeks was press you for information, and even though you were safe now, you weren’t too keen on opening your mouth.
“Uh, hey,” the guy said. “Are you feeling okay?”
You didn’t answer, eyeing him carefully. He was wearing jeans and a tshirt, and from that display earlier, you knew he definitely wasn’t a cop.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Well, uh, I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to be afraid or anything. My dad-he’s the guy who just left-is just trying to help. He knows about everything. You know, the werewolves, and the hunters and stuff. So you don’t need to be scared.”
You were still just staring at him, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve also got this friend. His name’s Scott, and he’s an alpha-”
“No!” you yelled suddenly, tensing up.
“Wh-what?” Stiles choked, glancing over his shoulder in case anyone had heard you.
“No alpha!” you commanded. “I don’t want an alpha!”
“Okay, okay!” he whispered loudly. “Relax, I’ll just tell him to leave when he gets here.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “You will?”
“I will,” he told you. “I promise. But everyone out there…they’re really worried about you.”
You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, but Stiles kept talking. “The deputy who found you, Clark, she’s really concerned. She was hellbent on taking you to the hospital.”
“I don’t need a hospital,” you whispered, looking down at the wounds that had disappeared ages ago.
You picked at your blood-stained jeans and tried to avoid his eyes. They were sharp and curious, and you didn’t have the urge to be questioned and dissected like you were some sort of science project.
“I know that,” he continued. “And so does my dad. That’s why he told her no when she radioed in, but she’s still really worried.”
“She was nice,” you told him softly. “Tell her thank you?”
“You can tell her yourself if you want to,” Stiles told you gently.
Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. Stiles’ brow furrowed. “Is there a reason you’re not really talking? Are you afraid of someone?”
You shrugged, and he sighed and sat down on the couch across from you. He patted the spot next to him, and you raised your eyebrows at him.
“What?” he asked. “It’s more comfortable over here, just FYI. I can even switch with you if you want.”
You shook your head, and the boy simply shrugged and leaned back into the cushions.“I’m Stiles by the way.”
“Stiles?” you questioned.
He nodded. “Weird name, I know. But this is a pretty weird town.”
You nodded in agreement, and wrapped your arms around your knees. You were content to sit in silence, but Stiles let out a heavy breath. “God, I’m starving. Are you hungry?”
You shook your head again, but just as you did, your stomach growled in contradiction. Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”
You shook your head vigorously this time. You didn’t want him going out of his way for you. You didn’t even know him.
“What’s your name then?” he asked.
You glanced up, and he pursed his lips. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
You swallowed. “It’s Y/n. My name is Y/n.”
Stiles smiled, his lips twitching at the corners, and it occurred to you that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often. “Pretty. Your name, I mean, not you. I mean, it’s not that you’re not pretty or anything. That’s not what I meant. You’re definitely pretty. Gorgeous, really, but, uh-”
You cut him off with another soft laugh. Your voice was hoarse and weak from screaming, but he could detect a hint of happiness in it. “I knew what you meant.”
“Oh,” Stiles said, his cheeks going red. “Right.”
“Your friend,” you whispered cautiously. “The alpha…what’s he like?”
“Pssh,” Stiles remarked. “He’s a dork, but he’s a good guy. Sometimes too good of a guy, but he’s strong too. He’s been through a lot. He’s done a lot for me…for this town.”
“Is he like you?”
“Do you mean ruggedly good-looking and charming?”
“No,” you told him plainly.
“You know, I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” he told you playfully.
You laughed and Stiles smiled. “You have a nice laugh.”
You blushed and leaned back in your chair, curling in on yourself. “I was just kidding before, you know. I like it when you talk.”
“I think you talk enough for the both of us,” you told him.
Stiles laughed once more. He had an infectious laugh, and soon you were giggling too. For the first time, it occurred to you that there was too much space between you and Stiles. You wanted to be close to him, to this boy who made you feel safe, even when a room full of police officers couldn’t.
That was when the door opened, and you flinched back as you saw the Sheriff walk in. He took one look at Stiles, and he swore he saw smoke coming out of his dad’s ears.
“Stiles,” he growled, grabbing him by his shirt and hauling him up.
“Wait, no dad-” he protested, but he was already being shoved out the door.
His dad slammed it in his face, and he was left standing there in the hall, with the eyes of the whole station on him. He sniffed, shifting at the pressure of the stares. “What are you looking at?”

Back in the office, you looked down at the floor.
“I’m sorry about that,” the Sheriff apologized to you. “My son is harmless, but he likes to stick his nose in things.”
You shook your head, not meeting his eyes. “He’s a good person.”
The Sheriff blinked, wide-eyed, and nearly dropped the mug of coffee he was holding. These were the first words he had heard you speak.
“He is,” he told you, his voice softening. “Did he talk to you?”
You smiled. “A lot.”
The Sheriff smiled, and slid down onto the sofa that Stiles had vacated. “He does that. Can’t get him to stop sometimes.”
You nodded, and the Sheriff sighed. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to say to me would you?”
You shifted in your seat. “Stiles.”
The Sheriff blinked. “Sorry?”
“Stiles,” you repeated. “Please?”
His brow furrowed, fixing you with that same inquisitive look that Stiles had. He looks like his dad, you thought.
“Let me get this straight,” the Sheriff began. “You want my son in here? Are you sure?”
He was met with a vigorous nod, and then he slowly stood up and set his mug of coffee on his desk. “All right, but you asked for it.”
He walked over to the door of his office and pulled it open, only to have Stiles flop through the doorway and right onto his feet. The Sheriff glared at his son, who had obviously just had his ear pressed up against the door.
“H-hey, dad. Hey, Y/n. You two have a good talk?”
The Sheriff frowned. “Sometimes I think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“I’m cute though, right?” He asked hopefully. “Dad? Right?”
The Sheriff shot him a look. “Sit down, Stiles. If Y/n’s more comfortable with you in here, you can stay, but you’re going to be quiet.”
“Got it,” he told him, nodding rapidly.
He flopped down onto the couch and shot you a wink, as if the two of you were sharing some sort of inside joke. His father looked between the two of you, his brows furrowing, and then he held out his hand.
“You can sit on the couch if you want. It’s probably more comfortable than that chair.”
You nodded and looked over at Stiles, searching for confirmation. He shrugged and patted the seat beside him, and you quickly unwrapped your arms from around your knees.
Stiles smiled encouragingly as you sat down beside him, and the Sheriff took the chair you had abandoned. He pulled it a little closer, causing the legs to scrape against the floor, and you flinched.
“Alright,” he told you, sliding behind his desk. “Y/n, do you have a last name?”
You swallowed nervously and remained silent.
“You look pretty young,” he continued. “Is there anyone we can call? Parents, family maybe?”
You shook your head softly. They wouldn’t come if he called, so you didn’t see a point.
“Do you have a pack?” He asked. “Maybe an alpha who’s missing you?”
“No,” you told him firmly, your eye wild and terrified. “Not my alpha. He wasn’t…he wasn’t like Stiles’ friend.”
Stiles blinked, suddenly realizing why you had reacted the way you did when he brought it up earlier. Not every alpha was like Scott. Peter had been a prime example of that, and whatever you were running from, Stiles guessed your alpha was a part of it.
“I understand,” the Sheriff told you. “Are you sure there’s no one we can call?”
You thought for a moment, and felt tears pricking at your eyes. “No. I don’t…I don’t really have anyone.”
The Sheriff gave you a single, firm nod. “ Is there someone you were staying with? Someone in Beacon Hills?”
“No,” you whispered. “I…I ran from Sacramento. I don’t know anyone here.”
“You ran?” Stiles questioned, his eyes going wide. “Like, literally ran?”
“Stiles,” the Sheriff chided, shooting a sharp glare at his son. “Is that true, Y/n?
You came here on foot?”
You nodded. “Mostly. I took a bus when I got to Redding. I ended up here.”
“Why Beacon Hills?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I…I couldn’t go on foot anymore, so I spent what I had left on a bus ticket. I didn’t have a lot of time, though, so I just picked the first place I saw on the board.”
“Beacon Hills.”
“Yeah,” you said softly. “But they found me anyway.”
“Hunters. Two of them. I don’t know how they found me, but I think they were
watching my alpha. And when I tried to run from him…I guess they saw me as an easy target.”
“You were running from your alpha?” the Sheriff asked.
You closed your eyes and nodded, trying to fight the nausea building in your stomach at the thought of him. You remembered the blood, and the pain of the bite, and the things he had done to you that were much worse.
Your family hadn’t understood. They screamed when you tried to show them what was happening, and after that, you knew there was no way you could go to anyone else you knew. After they tossed you out on the street, you hadn’t seen paying a visit to your alpha as an option, and it dawned on you that you didn’t really have any other choice.
Going to him had been a mistake, not only because he tried to hurt you, but when you ran, you caught the attention of someone just as deadly. You managed to escape the hunter and his buddy on foot, and you were running for a week before you finally hopped on that bus to Beacon Hills.
What you didn’t realize was that you hadn’t totally lost them, and the minute you stepped off the bus, they were waiting for you at the station.
“Is he still after you?” Stiles’ father asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
“No,” you said, thinking back to your alpha. “I don’t think he cares enough.”
“And these hunters?”
“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “They looked young, and they seemed like they didn’t really know what they were doing.”
Stiles scoffed. “They knew enough to torture you.”
Stilinski shot a glare at his son, and you cast your eyes to the floor. When you looked back up, Stiles was staring at you with a grimace on his face. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.
“I don’t know if they’re coming back,” you whispered softly. “If they do…”
“We’ll be right here,” Stiles swore, and for once, his father didn’t scold him. “My friend Scott…he’s not going to let anything happen to you. And neither will I.”
You looked over at the Sheriff questioningly, but he flashed you an encouraging smile. “He’s right, Y/n.”
“But you don’t even know me,” you pointed out softly.
The Sheriff shook his head. “Doesn’t mean a thing. We’re here to protect you. If these men come back for you, they’ll have to go through us.”
You stared at them in disbelief, unable to comprehend how a pair of strangers who had known you for less than an hour were prepared to protect you, even when your own family had tossed you out. The words came out broken and thick, but you felt the need to say them anyway, and you just barely managed to get out the “Thank you.” without bursting into tears.
You put your head in your hands as they started to stream down your face, and Stiles reached out to place a comforting hand on your back.
“Don’t worry, Y/n,” you heard the Sheriff say. “We’ll find an officer for you to stay with tonight. Maybe Parrish-”
“She can stay with us.”
You picked your head up, glancing over at Stiles in surprise.
“What?” he asked, his gaze moving from your shocked face, to his dad’s. “It’s not like we don’t have a couch, and she’s already comfortable around us…you’re comfortable, right?”
You nodded slowly, carefully peeking over at the Sheriff’s face. It was scrunched in thought, but he didn’t seem to be shooting the idea down right away.
“See?” Stiles continued. “If she wants to stay, can she?”
“Do you want to?” he blurted. “You wouldn’t have your own room, but the couch is soft. Or you could take my bed, and Scott could come over and meet you if you’re okay with it, and you wouldn’t have to worry about-”
“Yes,” you blurted, cutting off his rambling. “If…if it’s okay…”
The Sheriff sighed. “Well, we’ve had much worse in that house, and I can’t think of a reason not to…but it might only be temporary. I don’t want to disappoint you, Y/n.”
You shook your head, a soft, sad smile curling at your lips. “It’ll take a lot more than that to disappoint me, Sheriff.”
He nodded. “Well, guess I can’t say no to that.”
You let out a shocked breath, because there was still some part of you that wasn’t able to believe a complete stranger would ever show you this much kindness. “Thank you.”
Your voice was tight and thick, and you sounded a bit like you had swallowed a bug, but you still wanted to tell them. The Sheriff and Stiles had no idea how your own family had thrown you out when they realized what you were. They had only heard bits and pieces of your story, and they didn’t even know who you were, yet they were offering to take you in.
“You might as well grab your things,” he told you, gesturing to your backpack on the floor. “I’ve got some paperwork to fill out here, but Stiles can take you home.”
Home. The word resonated through you, making your chest ache. You took a breath to steady yourself and walked over to grab your bag, which was resting close to Stiles’ feet. As you reached down to grab it, he held out a hand to stop you.
“I got it,” he assured you, scooping it up with one arm.
“I can carry it,” you said quietly, but he only waved you off.
“It’s one bag. Besides, I’m not that much of a wimp. All this running for my life has really gotten me into shape.”
You bit your lip to keep from smiling, and clasped your hands together.
“You ready to go?” Stiles asked.
You nodded, and took a few steps closer to the Sheriff. “Thank you for this. Thank
you so much.”
He blinked in shock as you wound your arms around his middle, but he quickly recovered and gave you a tight squeeze back. “Don’t worry, Y/n. You’re safe with Stiles.”
You nodded and pulled away, and followed Stiles toward the door of the office. Your stomach rumbled just Stiles opened it up, and just as Stilinski called out to him.
“Make up the couch for her, alright?”
“Got it, dad!”
“And Stiles?”
“Please get this girl something to eat.”
“Of course,” he told him, turning around to shoot a look at his father. “I’m not a
You laughed to yourself as Stiles led you out, and several officers looked up from what they were doing and stared. You froze at the pressure of their eyes on you, and wished more than anything they would go back to their paperwork.
Your clothes were still ripped and covered in blood, and you must have looked like hell with your lack of sleep and wild eyes. At first, your only sense of comfort was the smile Officer Clark offered you. She was the only one not staring at you like you were some kind of headcase, at least until you felt someone slip their hand into yours.
You glanced over to find Stiles smiling down at you, encouragement on his face. He was looking at you like he thought you might bolt, but he had no reason to be worried. With his hand in yours, you never would have thought of running.
You squeezed his fingers, set your shoulders, and started to walk toward the door again. A proud grin crossed Stiles’ face, and to your surprise, he didn’t let go of your hand.
“So,” he said simply. “You up for some chicken nuggets?”

Stiles rolled over in the darkness, listening to the soft drumming of rain against the roof. Every so often, lightning would flash through the room, illuminating the greyish-blue walls, and shortly after, thunder would rumble throughout the house.
The skies seemed to be going to war outside, and no matter how deep he burrowed into his covers, Stiles couldn’t seem to drown out the noise enough to sleep. He knew you must have been having trouble too, considering you had the hearing of a bat, and he finally gave up on tuning out the storm and shoved his covers off.
He hopped out of bed and headed down the hall to your room, which had been converted from the Sheriff’s home office a couple weeks ago. Originally his dad had only promised your stay to be a temporary thing, but as you got to know each other, he had a change of heart.
You started going to school with Stiles and his friends only a few weeks ago, but you had already grown to love Scott and Lydia, and Malia seemed to be permanently attached to your side. You were still shy, and Malia had no problem with promising to break the legs of anyone who even considered messing with you.
She was brash and wild, and everything you weren’t, but she was quickly turning into your best friend.
Stiles was proud that you were already fitting in so well, even though you were still dealing with a lot. The nightmares had started the first night you were there, and you often woke Stiles and the Sheriff (when he was home) in the middle of the night.
You apologized profusely, and you were usually glad for the Sheriff’s frequent night shifts, because that was one less person you were bothering. Stiles told you all the time they didn’t see it like that, but it was still hard not to feel insecure.
Stiles was doing everything he could to make you feel welcome, but as he headed down the hall he worried that it might not be enough. Another wave of thunder cracked through the sky, but underneath the rumbling, he could hear something else.
They were quiet and soft, but Stiles recognized the sound of sobs coming from your room. His heart sped up and he immediately darted forward, yanking open your door just as thunder crashed again.
As he entered your room, you jumped, and he couldn’t tell if it was him or the thunder that had startled you. He looked closer and realized you were shaking, and huddled next to your bed on the floor.
Your arms were wrapped around your sides, and when Stiles met your eyes you had the same look that he had seen in them when he first met you; wild and terrified.
He breathed your name, and the sound of it coming off of his lips washed over you like a wave. You reached for him in the darkness, your outstretched fingers illuminated by the lightning.
Stiles instantly dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.
“Shh,” he murmured, over and over in your ear.
“It’s so loud,” you whispered, still trembling against him. “I-I can practically feel it.”
You had only been a werewolf for a little over a month, and you were still struggling with all the physical changes. Loud noises particularly bothered you, and Stiles could have kicked himself for not coming to check on you sooner.
“We can call Scott,” he offered softly.
“No,” you whispered hoarsely. “Please just-just stay?”
“I’ll stay,” he promised, running his hand over your hair. “I’ll stay.”
You burrowed into him, knowing that your tears were staining his t-shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. He simply held you there and murmured to you through the storm, promising you that everything would work out.
When it was finally over, it was well into the early morning, and Stiles’ shirt was soaked through with your tears. You peeled yourself away from him, and wiped your wet cheeks.
“You alright?” He asked softly
You nodded, but your face was red from tears and shame. Stiles noticed you weren’t meeting his eyes, and he eventually crawled across the carpet to rest by your side.
“You know I totally get this, right?”
You frowned, and wrapped your arms around your knees. “I can’t even make it through a storm without breaking down into a sobbing mess, Stiles.”
Stiles shrugged, his shoulder bumping against yours. “It’s a werewolf thing. I’ve seen worse.”
“Oh yeah?” You challenged. “Like what?”
“Well, Scott almost put a hole in his wall with my face once on a full moon. And then I had to handcuff him to a radiator…”
“Handcuff him?” You asked. “Did that even work?”
“Nope,” he told you. “He got out, so trust me, this isn’t that bad.”
“Huh. I guess not.”
“You must be exhausted,” he noticed. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
You shook your head, and he sighed, rising to his feet. You followed him and sat down on your bed, but instead of leaving, he just stood there.
“Is there something else you wanted to say?”
“What? Oh, uh…no. No, I guess not.”
He scratched his neck and looked toward the door, and then back to you. You tilted your head.
“Stiles…do you wanna sleep in here tonight?”
“It’d make me feel better if I did.”
“Why?” You asked quietly.
“Just in case you need me.”
You felt a warm, cozy feeling spread over you, and your lips turned up ever so slightly.
“It’d make me feel better too.”
Stiles nodded eagerly, and as you shimmied under your covers, he followed you into bed. He stayed respectively on his side, but he rolled over to look at you as you settled in.
Eventually, you decided you didn’t like the space between the two of you, and you scooted closer. Stiles didn’t like it anymore than you did, and he followed suit until he was only a few inches away.
“Stiles?” You whispered. “Can you hold me again?”
A weak noise came from the back of his throat, but he quickly reached out to wrap his arms around you once more. You snuggled into him and closed your eyes, soaking in his warmth.
He reached out tentatively to stroke your hair, and you sighed against his chest. His eyes closed soon after yours, but he remained awake for a few extra moments, listening to your breathing slow down.
When he finally fell asleep, he did it with you still nestled in his arms, and a smile on his face. It had been only a few weeks since you had turned up in the station, but Stiles felt like you had been there for much longer. You said once that you there was no  real reason you had ended up in Beacon Hills, that you had just hopped on the first but you saw, but he didn’t entirely believe that.
There was some reason you ended up here, that you had ended up with him. He was sure of it, and if was being honest, he didn’t care what it was. All that mattered to him was that you were here, and whether it was god, or nature, or the universe that did it, he thanked them for whatever had brought you to Beacon Hills.

Happy Birthday, onedirectionshallneverchange!

Today, we (also!) wish a very Happy Birthday to @onedirectionshallneverchange!  We hope you’re having a wonderful birthday ticking everything off your wish list! To add to the cheer, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!

Happy Birthday to the prompter! Apologies if I’m rusty with fluff. I’m coming off lots of academic (creative) writing, where my focus was high-stakes junior/middle-grade fiction…

Rated F for fluffy.


Katniss sighs and drums her fingernails against the shiny, laminated surface of the loans desk.

She doesn’t know how Madge does it. It’s barely gone nine in the morning and already half the fifty-strong cohort of children are crying for their mothers while the other half are screaming and throwing glitter at each other. No wonder no one’s coming by to check out books from her. Everyone’s keeping a wide berth of the entire building. Except for the influx of children, it’s a veritable ghost town.

Keep reading

Beast to Your Beauty by tardisheart134

Rating: Not Rated

Word Count: 2,720

Summary: Castiel has been eyeing Dean and all his ruggedly handsome good looks for some time, but he buries his feelings. If Dean knew what he was thinking he would laugh at him surely. Cas can’t help but hope there is a softer side to Dean beneath the surface. Meanwhile, self-loathing and sometimes abrasive Dean, watches as Castiel - real life angel - selflessly helps others and spreads love and acceptance wherever he goes. There is beauty that radiates from deep within him and calms Dean’s restless heart. Would fate help them lose themselves long enough to find each other?

Beast to your Beauty

Word Count: 2,790 (approximately)

Link to AO3: (x)        

Summary: In celebration of the live action remake of Beauty and the Beast ~

Castiel has been eyeing Dean and all his ruggedly handsome good looks for some time, but he buries his feelings.  If Dean knew what he was thinking he would laugh at him surely.  Cas can’t help but hope there is a softer side to Dean beneath the surface.  Meanwhile, self-loathing and sometimes abrasive Dean, watches as Castiel - real life angel - selflessly helps others and spreads love and acceptance wherever he goes.  There is beauty that radiates from deep within him and calms Dean’s restless heart.  Would fate help them lose themselves long enough to find each other? 

They were working on a skeleton crew as it was because of the weather advisories but someone had to be there.  Castiel lived within walking distance of the office so he didn’t mind to stay a bit longer.  He went around checking on others and helping them meet their deadlines so they could get home safe.   

It had started snowing around 3 PM and then it got dark shortly after that as the snow clouds moved in to cover the sun.  Cas watched the last of them bundle up and slide through the parking lot to their cars. It was almost 7 PM when Castiel finished up the rest of the pressing assignments.  A dull headache plagued him from staring at the computer screen for so long.  He hit the lights, getting ready to head home himself, when Dean Winchester stepped off the elevator.

“Dean, what are you still doing here?  You live the furthest away, you should have been the first to leave.”  Dean could tell that Cas was genuinely worried because his eyes flared blue and his brow scrunched with worry.  

“No, it’s okay.” Dean said.  “I knew it was too late, I’m just gonna crash on the couch in the break room.  Dean couldn’t help but be flattered by Castiel’s concern.  “I just came down - I think I left a cup of noodles in my desk.”  

Cas wrinkled his nose and cocked his head to the side.  Dean wondered what had him so deep in thought.  He was beautiful when he was concentrating.  

“What about you? - I didn’t know you were still down here working - last to leave?”  Dean gestured at Cas.

“Well, I don’t live too far - just at the bottom of the hill there’s a path that leads through to my apartment.  I was just about to walk home.”

“Oh.”  Dean nodded.  They were both quiet for a moment but neither were in a hurry to leave each other’s presence.  

“Look…” Cas looked down, scratching the back of his neck.  “Why don’t you come home with me?”  Castiel looked up at Dean and then away again.  He’d had a crush on Dean for a while - but this had nothing to do with that.  It wouldn’t be right to leave Dean helpless here without a decent meal or a shower, not when his home was so close.  “My home is not much to see - it’s fairly small but I’ve got a shower and a fireplace and homemade chicken curry soup in the fridge…”  Castiel was trying to convince him but Dean hadn’t objected.  

“Okay.”  Dean said.

“Yeah?”  Castiel’s eyes went wide with disbelief, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah…just let me grab my coat.”  Dean disappeared into the office.

Castiel felt giddy like he’d asked Dean on a date and Dean accepted.  He tried to remind himself that was in fact - not - what happened.  Dean was stranded and simply taking the help that Cas offered, nothing else. (The thought didn’t help to quiet the butterflies in Cas’ stomach though.)

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A Crown and A Captain: Setting Sail

Killian is the prince of the small kingdom of Balliolshire and he has been tasked with finding and stopping the pirate captain that has been wreaking havoc on the seas. He’s unprepared for the challenges Captain Swan will present. A CS royal Killian/pirate Emma AU.

Prologue, Ch 1, AO3

Killian looked out over the harbor and wondered if in another life he would still be a sailor.  The weeks spent in the saddle as he made his way to Misthaven had thoroughly convinced him that he was meant for the seas in this life.  Only Thompson’s good humor had kept him from tearing his hair out in frustration, or boredom, Killian wasn’t sure which one outdid the other.  Either way he was sure that no matter what life he was born into he would find his way to the open water.

Their progress had been impeded by an invitation from King Arthur to stay at his castle for a ball that was being held as Killian was passing through.  Not wanting to insult Arthur and put any kind of strain on their kingdom’s relationship he had accepted.  Thompson had spent the afternoon leading up to the ball teasing Killian for not thinking to bring a proper outfit for the occasion.  Killian would have laughed if he hadn’t been worried about not being able to make it to Misthaven’s harbor in time to meet the Jewel when it anchored.

One advantage of his impromptu stay was his unfettered access to Camelot’s library.  Using the excuse of wanting to familiarize himself with the Queen’s rise to power he was shown to the historical records by the library’s keeper and then left alone.  At first he did just that, read about the Queen’s decades long vendetta against Queen Snow White, the multiple attempts on Queen Snow and her husband James’ life, and the eventual banishment.  All which had happened nearly twenty-seven years earlier, when he was only a small child uncaring of the political strife around him.

Before he had realized it he had been in deep into his reading for hours.  It was only when Thompson had appeared at his elbow warning him that the dinner hour was fast approaching that Killian tore himself away.  After reassurances from the librarian that the table he had been at would be untouched he had left, determined to return and continue discovering the path leading to the Queen’s rule.

He had had to wait a full day before he was able to slip back into the library, happy to find the books and parchment he’d left behind undisturbed.  With the ball being held that night he had wasted no time and risen before most of the servants to resume his task, knowing the castle would be bustling with so much activity that the lack of his presence would go unnoticed.

It wasn’t long before he lost himself in history again.  He idly noted the sixteen years of peace for Misthaven and their allies, Camelot and Balliolshire among them.  For him those years were filled with nothing but memories of lessons and time spent dueling imaginary foes with Liam.  They were also filled with the incessant grooming by their parents and tutors moulding Liam and himself into the proper royal princes they were born to be.  Liam had borne the near torture with grace, Killian had not.

Flipping through the book pages and loose sheaves of parchment it was several minutes before he found where the Queen’s tale picked back up.  While she had remained quiet for sixteen years she had apparently not remained idle.  Killian read with horror how she had torn through the kingdom, laying waste to villages and towns that stood against her.  Her assault on Queen Snow’s castle had only lasted a day before it fell.  When the smoke had cleared Queen Snow and Prince James were imprisoned and the Queen had sat herself on the throne of Misthaven.  No one had challenged her rule for the nine years that followed.  Until whispered rumors started spreading of a single pirate ship that dared to attack Misthaven’s merchant vessels.

Finally Killian had come across the information he had originally gone to the library for.  What he found was disappointing, to say the least.  Camelot had no borders along the sea, the only notable body of water within it was a large lake, almost large enough to be a sea itself.  As a result any hope he’d had of finding mention of the Tarina Brooke was lost as he almost feverishly scoured the records.  Aside from the brief mention of a pirate ship openly attacking ships under the Queen’s protection there was nothing more.  Killian had growled in frustration, earning a glare from the librarian, and cleaned up after himself in agitated movements.  He had been relieved that the ball was that night, if only for the flowing libations and fanciful lasses that would provide sufficient distraction from his disappointment.

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Isaac- What If I Want To?

Request-  Isaac lahey imagine where y'all are best friends and your going on a date and haven’t had your first kiss yet and your scared your not good and he teaches you how to kiss and then it turns into a hot make out session and she realises she missed her date and they spend the rest of the night watching Netflix and cuddling in bed or on a couch

A/N- Here ya go sweetie! I feel like I haven’t written any romance for Isaac in a long time, so thank you for your refreshing request. Next up is a Liam imagine. 

You nervously tapped your pencil against the lab table, your leg bouncing nervously as you tried to concentrate on Mr. Harris. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as it sounded, and the only thing that actually caught your attention was whenever he would call out Stiles in the middle of class.
“What’s wrong?” Isaac whispered next to you, eyeing your bouncing leg.
“What?” you asked, turning to him. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Y/n,” Isaac said. “You’re shaking the desk.”
“Oh,” you said, looking down at your legs and realizing what you were doing. “Right.”
You quickly stopped moving, setting your pencil down and turning to Isaac. You shot a quick look towards the front of the class, making sure you hadn’t caught Harris’ attention before you started to explain. He was brutal to anyone who talked in his class, and you didn’t really feel like staying three hours after school for detention.
“I guess I’m just nervous about tonight,” you told Isaac quietly.
“What’s tonight?”
“I have a date. I thought I told you that.”
“A date?” Isaac demanded. “With who? When did this happen?”
You raised your eyebrows at him, not sure why he was suddenly interrogating you. “With Steven from our english class.”
“Steven?” he repeated. “That guy is a tool, Y/n.”
“Isaac,” you complained. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
“I’m just looking out for you,” he defended. “You know, since I am your best friend and all.”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course, and no guy I ever date is going to change that.”
“So why are you nervous? I mean, I would be too if I had to spend three hours with a total jackass, but-”
“Isaac,” you hissed, glaring at him.
The blue-eyed boy rolled his eyes, but he crossed his arms over his chest and gestured for you to go on.
“You know how I’ve never had my first kiss?” you asked, and when he nodded you continued. “Well, what if he tries to kiss me? I’d probably be awful, and it’d be totally embarrassing.”
Isaac pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Maybe you just need some practice.”
“That’s perfect,” you told him, your face breaking into a grin. “You can teach me how to kiss.”
“Me?” Isaac exclaimed, his eyes widening. “Y/n…”
“Unless you’re uncomfortable with that,” you added evenly. “I mean we’ve known each other since we were twelve and I really wouldn’t want to make things weird…”
“No, it’s not that,” Isaac told you.
“Then what?” you asked him. “Please, Isaac. I really need your help.”
“I don’t know,” he sighed, running a hand through his messy curls.
“I’ll be your best friend,” you offered in quiet singsong.
Isaac rolled his eyes. “You already are my best friend.”
“And now I’m guaranteeing you get to keep me forever. See? Everybody wins.”
Isaac bit back a scoff. I wish, he thought as he looked into your pleading eyes. He was about to open his mouth when he caught sight of Harris’ eyes moving towards you. Harris had been in the middle of lecturing Stiles when he noticed your conversation.
“…yet again make me regret my decision to become a teacher, Mr. Stilinski. In fact, you make me regret I was even bor-Mr. Lahey! Ms. Y/l/n!”
You jumped, looking over to see Harris glaring at you from the front of the room. He raised his eyebrows at you, and you were certain that if looks could kill you and Isaac would both be dead.
“This is a chemistry classroom, not social hour. And while I’m hoping something might rub off,” he said, gesturing from you to Isaac. “I’d prefer if you didn’t flirt with each other in my class. Maybe Mr. Lahey wouldn’t be failing if actually studied chemistry instead of you, Ms. Y/l/n.”
You looked down at the table, suddenly finding the profanities carved into it the most interesting thing you had seen all day. You were blushing madly, and your face only went back to it’s normal color when Harris finally turned away.
“Sorry,” you whispered to Isaac.
He shrugged, annoyed but not surprised by how much of an asshole Harris was. “It’s cool.”
“So you were saying?” you whispered, being extra careful to be quiet this time.
Isaac sighed. “Fine. I’ll help you. But you owe me, more than just eternal friendship.”
“Awesome,” you said with a grin. “Can you come over at four?”
Isaac faked a smile, unable to say no to you. “Anything for you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” you asked Isaac as you walked into your living room.
“Yeah, but your parents are going to be at work for a while right? I wouldn’t want them to walk in on us kissing and get the wrong idea,” he told you.
You scoffed. “My mom would love to walk in us kissing. She already thinks we’re going to give her grandchildren.”
“Does she really?” Isaac asked with a grin.
“Does that surprise you?” you asked with raised eyebrows, plopping down on your couch.
“No, not at all,” he admitted, falling down beside you. “Uh, I guess we should get started.”
You sat up, staring at him expectantly as he leaned forward. “Okay, um, he’ll probably make the first move so just be ready for it.”
He reached forward, placing his hands gently on your waist. You watched him with careful eyes, watching his baby blues flick down to your lips. “It’s easy,” he told you. “Don’t be so nervous.”
“Okay,” you whispered, taking a deep breath and relaxing your shoulders.
Isaac leaned forward, closing the space between you as his hands rested on your waist. He kissed you gently, and much to his surprise, you quickly kissed him back. It was slow and hesitant at first, but you had kissed him back nonetheless.
As his lips moved against yours, he wished so much that this could be more than a lesson, and that he wasn’t about to lose you to a douchebag from your english class. He had pined after you for years, and he guessed it was his fault for not taking his chance. He should have known someone would sweep you away eventually, he had just been too slow to make a move.
Your arms reached up, instinctively wrapping around his neck as you leaned into him, now a little more confident in the kiss. Your fingers trailed at the edge of his curls, and you figured that if this was what kissing was always like, you really should have done it sooner.
Isaac smiled into the kiss, hoping you didn’t recognize his enthusiasm. He knew he probably shouldn’t be so eager, but when was he ever going to get a chance with you again? You honestly had nothing to worry about, because despite what you might think, Isaac thought you were a great kisser. In fact, he would do this all day given the chance.
Isaac pulled away, giving you a chance to catch your breath. You blinked, a little embarrassed as you untangled your arms from his neck.
“Was…was that okay?” you asked nervously.
“Okay?” he repeated. “Y/n that was amazing. Are you sure you’ve never done that before?”
“You’d know if I had,” you told him sheepishly.
You scratched the back of your neck, feeling your face get hot as Isaac stared at you. You didn’t know why you were suddenly being so shy, but the light fuzzy feeling in your stomach told you it had something to do with the fact that you had just kissed your best friend.
“Do you wanna try again?” you asked softly.
“I don’t think you need to,” Isaac told you. “You’re a pretty good kisser.”
“Well, what if I want to?”
“What?” Isaac asked.
“What if I wanted to kiss you?” you clarified. “Would…would you want to?”
Isaac nodded, completely stunned and at a loss for words. You smiled, leaning forward and pressing your lips onto his once more. He immediately leaned into the kiss, not entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming.
His hands rested on your hips, gently pulling you closer as he leaned back against the couch. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, but this time your fingers wove shamelessly through his curls. He had waited so long for this, and he had never thought it would actually happen, but it was incredibly real.
He kissed you relentlessly, but you didn’t mind. It occurred to you that you could go on like this forever, and that if Isaac wanted to kiss your lips until you went blue you would probably let him. You don’t know how long you kissed, but by the time you finally pulled apart it was past six o'clock.
You rested in Isaac’s lap, looking over your shoulder at the clock on the mantle. You let out a small laugh, exclaiming “Oh my god.”
“You missed your date,” Isaac realized as he peered around you to look at the clock. “Sorry?”
“I don’t care,” you told him with a smile. “I think I remember someone telling me he was a tool anyway.”
Isaac grinned. “Whoever told you that is right…and charming. He’s also ruggedly good looking and-”
“And incredibly lucky to have you,” he finished, brushing some of your mussed up hair out of your face.
“Yes he is,” you told him with smile. “You know, since I missed my date, I’m free tonight. You wanna watch a movie on netflix?”
“How can I say no to netflix?” Isaac asked, grabbing a blanket as you reached over to turn on the tv.
You grabbed the remote, scrolling through through the list of comedies as you rested against Isaac’s chest. He had wrapped a fuzzy blanket around you both, and you laid your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around yours.
It occurred to you that this wasn’t all that different from when you had hung out for the past five years, but this time you had been making out for two hours beforehand. It was pretty different, but as you curled up against Isaac on the couch, you realized you liked it better this way.

Campaign Jensen Ackles for Indiana Jones on Twitter! #JensenForIndy @DisneyPictures 

There have been some serious rumblings about an ‘Indiana Jones’ reboot lately (is nothing sacred?). If Disney is really going to do this, who better to take up the iconic mantel than Jensen Ackles?! He: 

  1. is an incredibly talented actor (both in comedy and drama),
  2. has got the ruggedly handsome good looks and physicality for the part.
  3. has said himself that this is his dream role!

And honestly, who else can sell that cocky, devil-may-care attitude the way he does without sliding toward arrogance?

What can you do to help Disney notice/consider Jensen?

We all want the best for our boys and this is an incredible window of opportunity! SPN FAMILY: let’s flood the world with #JensenforIndy! 

Falling for You [ Mercy76 ]

Decided to do a little one-shot while I work on the next chapter for Secrets. This one-shot is set in a forest as Jack and Ang are supposed to be camping. But, Jack being Jack, got them lost. Things get a little romantic when they reflect on their relationship, as well as their future.

WARNING: As usual, this is another one of my cheesy, silly, trashy Mercy76 fics~!

Falling for You

Backpack slung over her shoulder, she let out another deflated sigh. “Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

“Absolutely,” he stated just as confidently as he had been for the past three hours.

“Then why haven’t we arrived. You said it was, and I quote, ‘Just up that hill, over past that lake, a left at the hollow tr-”

The words halted as his lips brushed lightly against hers. Heart beating at twice its natural speed, her cheeks burned a glowing red color. Averting her sapphire orbs, she nervously reached up to touch her ear. Lightly rubbing the soft lobe, the nerves within her veins fell silent for a moment as she played off the stress-relieving gesture as an excuse to brush back her long, chin-length blonde fringe.

“W-what was that for?” Her cheeks still on fire from the unexpected but completely action.

“To get you to stop worrying about how lost we are.”

Turning on his heel, the handsome blonde marched backwards down the path less traveled. There, smack dab in the middle of his face, sat perhaps the most coy yet cheeky grin she’d ever seen. Upon looking at it, she swooned, completely entranced by him. He was the definition of the perfect date. Perfectly quaff hair, eyes so blue that the Caribbean would be jealous, and a body so well-trained that he could have been the People’s 'Sexiest Man Alive’ poster man for this year. It was a good thing that trashy magazine died years ago for there was no way in hell she wanted to share this soldier’s ruggedly handsome good looks with the world.

Taking note of her stark silence, the radiant beau smirked. “Something the matter, Miss Ziegler?” He quirked a brow, hoping it might coax out the truth.

“That’s Doctor Ziegler to you, soldier.”

Commander,” he corrected with a very tongue-in-cheek tone.

Falling silent, she wrapped her hands even tighter around the mesh material that built the backpack straps. “So,” it was time she play the smug one, “we are lost.” Her eyes dared him to egg her on. “I did pack my Valkyrie s-”

What?!” He was no longer boastfully hiking backwards. Instead, he rushed forward to pat the bag that hugged her shoulders oh-so-snugly. “You promised!” There was a look of sheer disbelieve in his orbs, like she’d betrayed him or something.

“Jack,” she flicked her finger into his taut pectoral. He was doing that dramatic thing again. “We both know that you lose all focus when we’re together.”

“EGADS,” he gasped, hands clutching his face in a melodramatic manner. “I would never,” he cooed in that airy, dry breath of his. “You? Distracting!” He scoffed. “One hundred and ten percent!”

Lips falling back against hers, Dr Ziegler’s laugh was suppressed. With the fleeting kiss ending, she brushed back another strand of loose hair. “You’re a tease, Jack Morrison.”

“Me?” Hand sprawling out on the black material that covered his military-trained and toned body, he smirked. “Have you looked in the mirror lately, Angela should-be Morrison.”

She smacked him.

“I will never be a Morrison.” She narrowed her gaze, intentionally riling him up.

“Oh because that’ll look good. Overwatch’s Strike-Commander, formerly Jack Morrison, changes name at the alter to Jack Ziegler after marrying the smartest, most beautiful, most amazing, sexiest woman alive.” That goofy grin of his snaked up on his curled up lips.

“I think it has a nice ring to it,” she winked before twisting his fingers between hers. “Whaddaya say, love.” She winked. “Are you a one Swiss Angel kind of guy?”

“I think you an Lena have been spending too much time together.” He dropped their hands. “And you know I am an orphaned, Swiss girl who became the world’s most respected doctor kind of guy.” Cupping her cheek into his hand, Jack flashed her a grin. “Gotta make sure my baby doesn’t have to worry about being alone any more.”

Her hand wrapped around his. “So you’re going to resort to stalking me.”

“Nah,” his nose crinkled. “I’ll resort to marrying you.”

“A soldier-correction, a Strike-Commander, settling down with a doctor? What kind of fantasy are you living in?”

“The one where you and I have the best sex day in and day out. Where we have our own little piece of land in the middle of nowhere. Where we’ll raise our thre-”

Two,” she corrected.

“Where we’ll raise our two precious angels. Our oldest, he’ll be just like his mama. Wanna grow up to help people.”

“And our youngest?”

“She’ll be like me.” He punched the air in front of them. “Rough and tough. A real rebel. She’ll want to go into law enforcement, helping people in her own way by locking ’m up.”

Angela took a step forward to rest her head against his broad shoulder. “They sound wonderful.”

“What will we name them?”

A snort came from her direction.

“Wait… wait a minute. Did one of heaven’s angels just… snort?!” Jack gasped while stepping away from his giggling woman. “She did! Oh lord have mercy on my soul for I think this woman just made me a sinner!”

Rushing forward, his hands fell in line against her hips. Scooping her up, Jack twirled Angela around and around in the air until their faces, or rather lips, met again. Swirling coming to an end, Ang looped her legs around his hips while wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Finally, they were going to have their moment.

“Jack,” she purred, “you’ve always been a sinner.” She ran her hands through his soft, blonde locks.

“No,” he smiled up at his woman, “I only started that when I saw my first angel.”

Blushing, she butt her forehead against his. “You’re a dork.”

Your dork,” he chimed. “Gotta be hella embarrassing,” he teased.

“Oh most definitely. It’s why I had to lie about my whereabouts this weekend. Couldn’t let anyone know I was lusting for the most handsome man to walk into my sights.”

I’ve got you in my sights,” he rumbled, voice deep and gruff, just the way she liked it.

Smile tugging up the corners of her lips, she felt at peace. This was what it was like to be in love. To be happy.

Jack released her butt, allowing her to slide back onto solid ground. “Now,” he adjusted his backpack, “I really do think we’re getting close.”

“Oh heavens, Jack.” She reached for her suit.

“No, no, no.” His hands patted her down. “I got this.”

“Got this?” She snickered. “How? You cannot fl-fl-Jack Morrison! Get down from there! Jack! Jack you’re going to fa-”

“Good thing I brought my pocket healer!”

Ugh,” she growled while watching him climb higher up into the tree. “When you fall, I’m not setting your bones!”

“Uh-huh, suuuuure.” He called her bluff. “You know you love me.”

“I love you when you’re not being an impossible idiot. I am perfectly capable of flying up there to find the cabin. But no, noooooo, Jack has to be Jack and be the hero. Every. Goddamn. Ti-”


Her head shot up to the tree. He had climbed at least a good two stories up, if not more. “WELL?” she cupped her hands around her mouth to help carry her voice up to him.

“That way,” he pointed in the direction they literally just came from.

Jack,” she shook her head. “You’re an idiot.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she moved toward where Jack pointed. There was no way they walked past the cabin in the woods. They weren’t that oblivious. Where they?

“Oh!” Her hands clasped in front of her chest. “I see it! You were right, Jack!” Apparently they were.

“YAY~” his voice still came from high above.

Turning around, she looked up at the man still hugging the tree. “Uh, Jack?” She started to laugh. “Something the matter?”

“I have discovered I am absolutely terrified of heights.”

“So how do you plan on getting out of that tree?”

“I won’t.”

Jack,” her foot tapped against the forest floor. “Quit bluffing. I’ve personally seen you Halo Jump. I know you’re not scared of heights…”

“But I am scared of falling out of this rickety tree!”

“You didn’t have to climb it. I would have let you borrow the suit.”

“WHAT?!” The tree started to sway, clearly caused by Jack’s flailing.

“Careful, love, you’ll fall if you keep shaking the tree.”


“I’m just saying,” she shrugged coyly. “So?”


“You’re the 'Commander.’ What do I need to do to get you down?”

“Call Winston. I need that ape to come rescue me.”

“Yeah, no cell service. Not gonna happen.” She said while waving her phone.

“I’m sure Tracer is spying on us. She’ll zip up here and help me down.”

“Hun,” Angela shook her head, “Lena is in London. She’s attending a ceremony.”

“Uh…” Jack was running out of names that could actually help him in this situation. “Okay, so we need Rein to charge the tree and, while I’m falling, you can come get me!”

Jack,” her hand felt the rough bark of the tree he was cowering in, “would you be a dear and come down here?”

“In case you forgot,” he dared to look down at the blonde on the ground. “Oh my god, Ang! What are you doing?!”

She flashed him a sexy grin. “What’s it look like, hot stuff?”

“Are you really stripping?!”

“There’s more where this came from,” she playfully tossed her shirt to the side, completely exposing her lovely royal blue bra. “If you get down here, maybe I’ll let you take this off,” she chewed lightly on the straps of the bra.

“NOT FAIR!” He continued to clutch to the tree to dear life. “A boner AND stuck. Worst day ever. Gonna die.”

Jack,” Angela was really starting to love this side of him, “what do I always say?”

“This hero is so going to di-”

A crack echoed in the still of the forest.

Not a second later, a blue blur flew past her eyes. Then came the loud thud, which was promptly followed by diluted moaning.

“Jack!” She sprung forward to see her partner all twisted in a very leafy bush. “Jack!” Her hands danced feverishly across his skin to find a pulse. Snatching up his wrist, she began to count.

“Angela,” he groaned, “I’m fine. It was just a little fall.”

“Jack,” she squeezed his wrist, “that was not little.”

“Guess you’ll have to patch me up.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she groaned.

Letting him lay there, all sprawled out in that bush, she ran for her bag. Pilfering through it, she finally found a canister. It wasn’t going to be as good as her staff, but it would have to do. “This will sting,” she warned before shaking it and plopping it down beside her still-dazed Jack.

“Have I ever told you how lucky I am?” He wore a weak smile on his scratched up face.

“To be alive? Yes, yes I am aware.”

“No,” he started to sit up. Hand reaching out for her face, he latched onto the taut hair on the back of her head, thanks to that sexy up-do she loved to wear. Pulling her in close, he glided their lips together. For a good few moments, they savored each other’s taste. Smiling, he broke the kiss. “I’m the luckiest man alive because I have you.”

Heart breaking, but in the good kind of way, she leaped right into that bush with him. “Oh Jack,” she cooed, burring her face into the folds of his warm, soft shirt.

God only knows how long they stood their in the warm, numbing glow of the medical canister. They drank in each other, enjoying the peace and serenity that came with being in the vast wilderness. Even the creatures of the area seemed fixated on the couple. The birds sang their sweetest lullabies, the deer frolicked lightly through the nearby meadow. Why, even a proud bald eagle flew above them! It all felt like a scene straight out of a movie, but this was no movie. It was them. It was their life.


Her brows fell together. That name. It’s been so long. “W-what did you say?”

“Leona,” the smile on his face was faint. “I want to name our daughter Leona.”

Fatigue washed over her, causing Angela to falter and fumble into a collapsed mess on the forest floor. Jack, pulling from the bush, rolled over to his crestfallen beauty. In seconds, he was consoling her, making sure she was safe and well.

Hey,” he caught her chin between his fingers.

She pushed him back. Darkness clouded her, plagued her. Consumed her.

Angel,” his voice sweet and full of love, “I know. And I… I just thought that maybe.”

Her tears crashed into the ground around her. Silently, she sobbed, incapable of words or actions. Pain gripped her and drove her into this state.

“Shhh,” he drew closer, holding her against her will. “Angel,” his dry lips graced the tip of her nose. “We don’t have to. I just… I thought maybe…”

Her hand slipped between his. Eyes rolling up, she looked fiercely into Jack’s worrisome pair of baby blues. “It’s…” her voice quivered, “it’s perfect.” The water in her eyes shimmer with bliss despite the sad frown on her face.

He forced a smile, not sure if she was being facetious or not.

Leona Morrison,” she let loose her held breath. “It’s beautiful.” Slowly the frown on her face melted away and was soon replaced by a hopeful smile. Head turning to the blue sky beyond the pine needles and oak leaves, she smiled. “Mother, what do you think? Leona, named after you.”

Whoa,” Jack’s hand fell endearingly around Angela’s. “Let’s not ask your mom for permission yet.”

She quirked a brow.

“If I don’t marry you first, my dad will kill me on your dad’s behalf.” The way he spoke and the way his face turned white made her begin to laugh. “What? It’s not funny. My dad’s a stickler for those kind of things!”

“You’re cute,” she cooed. Hands dipping behind her back, she released the clasp. Not a second later, the plush material of the bra started to sag, revealing a part of her that Jack had yet to see, to explore.

Angel,” he was intoxicated by her. “W-wh-”

She batted her lashes, a less than innocent smile crawled onto her face. “Well…?”

He was still stammering, trying to find the right words to say.

She laughed. “Oh Jack,” she pawed at the ground between them before crawling over to him. “So well spoken,” she teased. As she made her slow approach, he kept his eyes trained on her. How her breasts swayed. How her body moved.

Her hand playfully pushed him back against the earth. Mounting him, she smiled down at her starry-eyed lover. “Always so articulate,” she teased again.

I love you,” he whispered while still memorizing every inch of this newly exposed part of her body.

“If you do,” she dipped into him, “then you’d stop staring and start doing.”

“I-I-I,” his face was completely flushed. She was always sucking the words from him, making him at like the fool.

Jack,” she leaned her forearm against his neck. “We’re both old enough to know we don’t need my daddy’s permission.”


She kissed the corner of his lips. “Whatcha gonna do?” She propped herself up on her elbow, perky breasts just inches from his chin. “Run? Like you always do?” She smirked. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. You’re hurt. We’re technically lost. I think,” she cleared her throat, “doctor’s orders, in fact, we need to stick together. And to make sure nothing’s broken,” she pulled herself up. Hands reaching for her belt, she undid the loop before slipping it off. Reaching for her pant button, she smirked. “I’m going to need to give you a full physical.

His heart stopped. The world stood still.

“Stop running, Jack.” She cooed. “I’m not going to break your heart. I’m not going to abandon you. I’m not going to stop loving you. So,” she pressed her lips forcefully against his, “please,” she begged him, “make love to me.”

The end.

Regarding Angela’s mom’s name.  I spent about 30 minutes figuring out what name to use. Eventually picked Leona.

Leona.  Apparently it’s feminine latin for lion-hearted.  Went with fem latin names because I saw that Angela is a fem latin name.

We know Ang’s parents passed because of the war.  If Ang is anything like her mom, I bet her mom went down fighting, fighting to protect her little angel.

If you recall, Jack mentioned that he wants their daughter to be a fighter, like him  And Jack, being the stalker that Ang called him out to be, did some research.  Looked into Ang’s past and learned who her mother was.  He fell in love with the name Leona and wholeheartedly wants to have his own little Leona.  Not only because of the name’s meaning, but because of it’s relationship to Angela.

So there you have it, the reason behind Leona.

Here’s to hoping Blizzard never releases Angela’s mom’s name.  xD

I really don’t think there is any need for a Harrison Ford-less Indiana Jones. At all. They got it right the first time so why mess with a good thing?


If anyone is ever to be recast in this iconic role, I’m 100% behind Jensen Ackles.

He is an incredibly talented actor, and has the ruggedly handsome good looks and physicality for the part. And honestly, who else can sell that cocky, devil-may-care attitude the way he does without sliding toward arrogance? (eg. Alec, Dean Winchester)

Jensen Ackles please! (I’ve day-dreamed about this since I first laid eyes on Jensen 14 years ago…)

Check out the full article here. Some of their suggested picks are atrocious….

Why aren’t more people watching The 100? 

Just a quick overview of some of the things this show has going for it:

1. Female characters. So many. And they’re fully developed or developing people, rather than a side story to the men. Some are bad, some are good, some are mediocre, but all have their own personalities and storylines.

2. Varied racial representation. Okay, so there’s the slight problem that most of the black people in it are Grounders, but there are several different races represented as both major and minor characters and they’re no more likely to die than their white counterparts.

3. Character development like woah. Seriously, it happens so naturally you barely notice at the time but the characters change so much and you see new sides of them and they’re not predictable or hugely cliched. So many plot twists because of character development.

4. You know how when people are in filthy surroundings or get beaten up in TV they just have those strategically placed smears and wounds that make them look ruggedly good looking? Not this show. None of that sexily ripped clothing on the girls either. Everyone gets dirty and injured if the situation demands it and they actually look dirty and injured.

5. Multiple societies/civilizations. That’s a bit of a spoiler, but at this point there are six different civilizations if you count the 100 and the Arkers separately, and still five if you don’t. And that’s just so far.

6. Again, a tiny bit spoilery but we get into a bit of disability representation in s2.

7. Can equally do stunningly beautiful and absolutely horrifying.

8. Important relationships that have nothing to do with sex and are complicated and heart-wrenching and beautiful and awful. Friendships, siblings, parents and children, leaders, allies, enemies. Yes there are some romantic or sexual relationships, but they aren’t focused on any more or less than the other relationships in the show.


That’s just off the top of my head. There are so many awesome things this show has going for it that I’m just amazed and appalled that it doesn’t have a wider viewership. If you can, then watch it. I promise you it’s worth at least looking into.

redfoxrandoms  asked:

For the 5 sentence prompts with the challenge: Oliciy in the real world, being set up on a blind date by the Arrow Team

Oh, dear… This one kinda turned into a little monster. Hehe. I still loved writing it. Hope you enjoy it!

Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not?

“Don’t worry, she said. He’s perfect for you, she said,” Felicity lamented as she sat alone at the bar, waiting for her blind date to arrive. This was Sara’s doing, and if the guy didn’t show up, she’d kick her ass, after polishing off a bottle of her favorite red.


“Fuck! I’m late!” Oliver cursed, running out of his apartment, keys in hand. He decided against the Aston and headed straight for his Ducati. The bike would get him to the restaurant faster. He hated being late, especially when it came to meeting someone new. Yeah, it was a blind date Dig and Lyla had set him up on, but considering they’d met that way, he figured he’d give it a shot. Considering the last woman he met turned out to be a psycho stalker, his friends had to have better instincts than he did.

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anonymous asked:

What about Varric training; with Cassandra watching and pretending to be unbiased but Cole starts taking about Varric's ruggedly good looks and how his muscles strain and flex with every bolt shot and everyone's looking around for who could be thinking that. Varric smirking because he already knows.

/clutches chest