rush the field

Birthday Blues // Jeff Atkins

A/N: Honestly, I wrote this at 1am. 

Named after: The fact that I mentioned readers birthday so much. That and I was listening to the blues.

It was a Saturday. It was the day of the championship game for baseball. But most importantly, it was your birthday.

You had let this small fact take a back seat in weeks leading up to the game, you didn’t want to stress Jeff out. Your boyfriend was already spending more time with Clay to get tutoring for two more classes just to make sure he’d play. He’d exercise in the early morning before school, go to baseball practice after, study and do homework with the smaller boy, and then watch his previous games until it was time to repeat.

It had become a routine, and Jeff normally got like this a few days before his games. You’d grown accustomed to it, you would plan to walk to school or ride with your next door neighbor Alex Standall, pack a few extra protein bars and Gatorade to leave in his locker, as well as massage him during his film.

He was…distant but it was okay because he always felt so guilty after, he’d pamper you for the next week.

However, what your boyfriend failed to let you know, was that for the championship, this routine of his was starting two weeks before you expected it. So when you found yourself arriving at school by 3rd period, after waiting 20 minutes for your boyfriend to show up you were more than angry.

But you pushed it aside, silently forgiving your baseball player. You knew Jeff loved the sport he played. For the most part, it was the only thing he felt he was incredible at. So you slowly adjusted to this behavior for the week, eating lunch by yourself because Jeff didn’t initially tell you he was going to the athletic trainer during your lunch period. Nodding as he asked you if you could find another ride home because practice was running late. Walking when you realized all your friends had already left.

It was fine, you knew it wasn’t intentional or malicious, he just really wanted the game to go well. Scouts would be looking at him. More importantly, you knew that once these weeks finished you’d have him all to yourself, starting on your birthday.

You walked through the bleachers wearing Jeff’s home jersey, 30 minutes before the game started. You saved seats for his parents who had already wished you a happy birthday, your parents who were there to support your boyfriend, and your friends who had helped you survive these past two weeks.

You made three posters all with different puns and cheesy jokes that you were sure Jeff would love,
 ’#1 on the field AND in my heart’
 'No that is not Derek Jeter, it’s Jeff Atkins’

And your personal favorite,
  ‘Atkins, Homerun counter:__’

You brought a sharpie with you to the game and by the end of it, you had edited that poster at least four times. You screamed so loud during the game you barely had any voice left when the team won.

The student section, along with yourself rushed the field and you watched as your boyfriend and his teammates poured water all over their coach. You smiled, more proud of Jeff than ever. Your two weeks of relationship hell were over and you were going to spend the rest of this Saturday night celebrating him and your birthday.

When you finally got the opportunity to get to Jeff, waiting for his parents and your parents to go first so they could leave, you hugged him as tightly as you could you pecked his lips before asking, “Now what champ?”

He smiled at the abbreviation. He let go holding out a finger signaling he’d get back to you. He left, jogging over to his teammates and a few reporters. You waited. Waited as the captains talked to the reporters who covered the game, waited as he greeted the college scout with a firm handshake, waited as the team filed out.

Jeff was the first one on that field and the last one to leave the dugout. He had all of his stuff in his baseball bag, slung on one shoulder while he wrapped the other arm around your waist.

“We’re going to Bryce’s!” He said smiling as you reached his car.

“W-what?” You asked trying to keep it together.

“Bryce, you know Bryce, he’s throwing a party for the win! You asked, ‘now what’ so that’s what!” He replied placing his stuff in his trunk.

You couldn’t lie, it fucking hurt. He forgot. He forgot your birthday of all days. You understand, it was the championship but the last thing you wanted to do was get drunk with a bunch of rowdy jocks. You and Jeff did that almost every weekend. Before you could say anything, Jeff opened the door for you, kissing your cheek.

“Jeff…” you started your voice nearly breaking. But when he turned to you, with the world in his eyes, ecstatic he had just won, you couldn’t bring yourself to ruin it. So you swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked back your tears as you forced a smile on your face.

“Could you please take me home? I’m not feeling too well.” You said, barely managing to make it through your request.

He nods, rushing back over to the driver’s seat. He grabs your hand, rubbing circles on your skin all the way to your house. His grip tightens as he pulls into your driveway and finally looks over at you.

You avoid his gaze and move to get out.

“So no party?” He asks you.

“No thanks, but go and have fun okay? I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He furrows his eyebrows placing another kiss on your hand before letting you go.

“Thanks, baby girl, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, he drives off. Once he’s out of sight you finally let the tears stream down your face like they had wanted to for the past two weeks.

You decided not to call anyone to make other plans, you would much rather sulk in your own pity. You had a mix of texts come in through the night that you ignored. Most of them from friends wishing you a happy birthday, and a few from a very drunk Jeff who, for the life of him, couldn’t manage to spell out ‘I love you’. That night you cried yourself to sleep, upset and alone trying to rationalize your boyfriend’s actions.

You woke up early the next morning, making yourself breakfast and planning out your day to make up for the previous. You could have fun by yourself. You ignored whatever Jeff texted you when you got ready, putting on some of your favorite clothes instead. Sorting through looking for your sweatshirt, you heard a knock on your door.

You threw on a t-shirt instead, yelling out 'come in’, as you started to put your hair into a bun.

“Hey, you feeling better? I have the nastiest hangover, so it’s fine if you’re not, we’ll be miserable together” Jeff started.

And you shook your head slightly at first, then you gradually became angrier. You couldn’t care less if Jeff had a hangover. Throughout his whole drunk escapade, it didn’t even occur to him that you were sitting at home, by yourself, on your birthday. He had treated you like shit for two weeks, he didn’t just get to waltz back into your life as though it never happened.

“Your parents let me in on their way out. You weren’t answering my texts so I just thought-” he stopped himself as he watched your expression change.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently.

“What’s wrong Jeff? What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?” You questioned, raising your voice slightly.

You didn’t plan on getting angry so fast, he just was so oblivious to everything it pissed you off, royally.

Jeff was taken aback. His mouth dropped slightly as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.

“FIRST. You didn’t give me a ride to school with no notice! I had to fucking walk! I was late to class and now I have detention next weekend so thanks!” You stood, now pacing around your room as Jeff took a seat on your bed.

“Baby-” he tried to interrupt.

“I’m not done” You interjected.

You were so upset you missed the completely shocked expression on Jeff’s face. Everything he did wrong in the past two weeks was flooding in all at once.

“Then! You made me eat by myself at lunch when you didn’t tell me you weren’t going to be there!”

“Baby girl-”

“Don’t you dare 'baby girl’ me! Then! You made me walk home! …IT’S AN HOUR WALK JEFF!”

He stood to meet you in all your anger, approaching you slowly.

“You basically ignored me, FOR TWO WEEKS! For fuck sake, Clay saw you more than I did!”

You couldn’t help it. Everything was spiraling in your head and pouring out of your mouth. When Jeff reached you, his hands that normally felt so comforting betrayed him. You wanted nothing more than to scream and yell until he left until he felt the way that you did.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? Please calm down-” he said in the most soothing voice he could figure.

Jeff was scared, to say the least. He had never seen you this angry before.

“CALM. DOWN? YOU’RE NOT SERIOUS!” You screamed back at him pushing against his chest to create some distance between the two of you.

As your voice grew louder, the tears came rolling in again. When they fell down your cheeks Jeff had to fight the urge to wipe them. He felt guilty, he was the sole reason you were so worked up.


Jeff could have sworn he felt his heart stop. He knew he had been forgetting something, he just didn’t know it was you. He couldn’t even stutter out a response, he just stood there taking you in.

“I made three fucking posters for you! And I was there for you! Through all this BULLSHIT! I waited after the game! When you did all your interviews, and you met with all the scouts, and you were fucking around with the boys! I let you do whatever the fuck you needed to! And you left me. On my birthday. FOR A FUCKING PARTY!”

You were sobbing at this point and your voice cracked as you screamed at him.

Jeff had tears at the brims of his eyes as well, he had no idea how much he hurt you in the past two weeks.

“A fucking party Jeff…god, you’re such an asshole.” You mumbled, wiping your tears frantically, hoping that they would stop flowing.

Jeff blinked back the tears his eyes before he approached you again. He stood this time, at least two feet away to give you your space. It was the distance that hurt him the most, normally he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he had to watch his first love cry, because of him, and she was too upset to even let him wipe away her tears.

“I’m sorry” he began.

And before you could interrupt him he continued.

“I- I’m so sorry.” He tripped over his own apology as a few tears fell from his eyes. He wiped them quickly, he knew he wasn’t in the position to get emotional when he was the one who hurt you.

“I was such a dick…and I- I fucked up big time…I don’t even fucking deserve you…” he struggled to find the right words that would make this all go away, but unlike your usual insignificant fights, he knew there wasn’t any combination of words that would fix it.

“Lemme make it up to you” he pleaded.

You crossed your arms over each other. Furious and devastated all at once. You wanted him to stay with you for the rest of the day but you also wanted him to get the hell out of your room.

Jeff slowly closed the gap between you two, grabbing at your waist.

“Please. Y/N. Let me fix it.”

He stared at you, searching your eyes waiting for your answer.

“I’ll beg if I have to” he offered up with a sad smile.

You frowned avoiding his eyes, you and Jeff both knew his puppy dog eyes could get you to do anything.

And so Jeff got onto his knees, his hands still at your waist and you finally looked at him.

“Jeff, get up” you muttered.

“Just give me a chance to fix it.” He countered.

You nodded quickly if only to get him off the ground, and he smiled standing to his feet again. He embraced you in what felt like the tightest hug ever.

“I’m really sorry” he mumbled into your hair.

And when he pulled away he was leaving your room.

“Cancel all your plans today, I’ll be back in an hour, I promise this is going to be the best day of your life!” He rambled as he grabbed his keys from your bed.

“Jeff, I don’t want you to le-” you whined. This was the first time he was paying attention to you in a while.

“One hour. If I’m not back……dump me!” He called out as he left your room door.

You sat on your bed, hearing the rumble of his engine begin, and when the sound of his car left your ears you exhaled and leaned back onto your bed. Hopeful for what was in store.

Part 2

Better Than Words - Archie Andrews

Can you do an Archie Andrew’s imagine where Y/N goes to one of Archie’s football games but he ends up getting hurt?


The reader doesn’t really get injured per say, but I hope you like it! If you want more Archie please message me!

“You look great Y/N, stop worrying.” Veronica said and you nervously pulled at your sweater. Betty nodded in agreement, “Archie won’t even know what’s hit him.” You blushed at your friends as your group made it’s way into the bleachers. Betty rushed over to Kevin, who was sitting in the first row closest to the football field. You and Veronica made your way to them, sitting down next to them. As your three friends started talking, your eyes scanned the field until your eyes landed on the number nine jersey. Even with his helmet on, he was so close you could see his large brown eyes. You felt your face grow hot when he turned and looked over to the bleachers.

“Looks like Y/N found Archie,” Kevin said with a grin on his face and you could only blush harder. You felt butterflies in your in your stomach as Archie made his way to the railing. You got up and walked to the bleacher’s railing as well. You leaned over the metal and watched as Archie took off his helmet, his red hair flopping everywhere. You giggled and reach over the railing to brush it out of his face. You almost didn’t realize what you were doing until Archie just stared at you. You felt your heart beat faster, but didn’t dare say anything. “You alright?” Archie asked, resting his hand next to yours on the railing.  You nodded and was about to speak when a whistle blew. Archie turned to look at his team then back at you, “I gotta go.” You gave him a sweet smile, “Good luck out there.” He shot you a boyish grin and walked away while putting his helmet on.

The game progressed to 7-14, with Riverdale leading. The fans were jumping up from their seats trying to get a look at the field. Archie had the ball and was running down the field with the ball in hand when a larger member of the opposing team started gaining on him. Archie couldn’t seem to get him off his tail and before he could stop, the player landed on him. The crowd gasped as Archie fell face first on the ground and was further crushed by the larger boy. When he got up off the ground, his arm was obviously bent at an odd angle. Paramedics rushed out onto the field and ushered him away. You were on your feet in the matter of moments, darting down the bleacher steps and running off to where they took Archie. You noticed an ambulance was runnings and saw the familiar head of red hair entering the car.

You rushed towards it, looking inside. “Archie!” He looked up at you and the pain on his face was apparent. “Ma’am, please go,” ordered one of the nurses. Archie shook his head, “She’s fine.” The medic made room for you in the ambulance and you sat down next to him, holding his injured hand.  The nurse set him up as the car made it’s way to the hospital. “Thank for sticking around Y/N,” Archie whispered and you nodded, “It’s no problem Archie.” He turned and you almost melted under his brown eyes. You brushed away a strand of stray red hair out of his face and saw his pink tinted cheeks. He curled his bottom lip in between his teeth and in an attempt to stop your blush, you turned away. You heard Archie chuckle and you looked back up at him. “This is not how I imagined this going.” He muttered, looking towards you once more.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking into his eyes. “After the game, I had this plan,” he started, “that when we all went to my place, I would finally tell you that I-” You cut him, pulling his face to yours for a kiss. He let go of your hand and buried his fingers in your hair.

“I wouldn’t be trying anything with that arm of yours,” said the nurse, that both you and Archie had forgotten about. He pulled away, blushing as hard as you. “Sorry,” he said, but the nurse just rolled her eyes. “Teens…”

You giggled and Archie turned back to you. “I was going to say that I love you, but I think that kiss conveyed it better than words.” You nodded, and leaned up to peck his forehead. “Much better than words.”

13 Reasons Why Preference: Hogwarts AU

Writing is mine; gifs are not (not all of the gifs are cooperating and im sad about it so if you can’t see them, sorry)

Originally posted by mystery--box

Jeff Atkins

You sighed contentedly as you sat in Slughorn’s Potions class, listening to Hermione Granger describe the sweet smelling potion, Amortentia, sitting in front of you. “It smells different to every person, depending on what they are most attracted to.” she was explaining. 

“What do you smell?” you heard a familiar voice ask, and turned towards the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team leaning towards you with a flirty glint in his eyes. 

“And why would I tell you that, Atkins?” you teased. 

“Oh, come on, I’ll tell you what I smell!” he answered. Leaning towards you, he lowered his voice to list his various scents. “I smell leather, freshly mowed grass, and something familiar that I can’t quite place." 

You arched an eyebrow. "You don’t even know one of your smells?" 

He laughed. "Oh, so you recognize all of yours?" 

You took a deep breath, and decided to finally tell him. "Okay, mine are freshly brewed coffee, old books, and that cologne that your mom always sends you.” you whispered, staring at the table in front of you. 

Jeff stayed silent for a minute, the most terrifying minute of my life. Finally, you heard him exhale. “I lied.” he muttered. 

“What?” you asked, turning your gaze to him. “I lied. I told you I didn’t know my third scent, but I do. It’s the way you always smell when you come back from holidays. Like the evergreens all around your house, in that forest you like to read in.” His cheeks were a bright red by the time he finished speaking, but you couldn’t hide the smile on your face. You went to reply, but he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your heart fluttering. 

“While that was all very romantic, Mr. Atkins and Miss (Y/L/N), could we please resume class now?” Slughorn asked as you and Jeff broke apart, cheeks burning with both happiness and embarrassment. 

Justin Foley 

You spun around one last time in front of your dormitory’s mirror. The way your dress flowed around your ankles when you twirled made you feel like a princess. You’d never felt more beautiful than you did in the moment. 

“Wow, (Y/N), you look incredible! Justin’s going to fall in love with you on the spot.” you best friend, Hannah Abbott, teased. 

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you muttered, “Shut up, no he isn’t." 

"Just wait, you’ll see.” she said, winking as she looped her arms through yours and you two exited the Hufflepuff common room. 

The Great Hall was decorated beautifully for the Yule Ball– it was like a winter wonderland, complete with ice sculptures and Christmas trees all around. 

“(Y/N)!” You turned your attention away from the decorations when you heard the familiar voice of the Slytherin boy headed your way. 

“Hi, Justin.” you replied as he reached you. And man, did he look good. “You clean up nice.” you laughed, eying him up and down. 

Laughing with you, he took a step back to admire your appearance. “God, you look absolutely stunning.” he said. Music started playing around you, signaling the start of the first dance. You all watched and clapped politely as the champions and their dates began dancing, soon joined by teachers and other students. “May I have this dance?” Justin offered his hand to you. 

You grinned. “Of course." 


After the feast and hours of dancing with Justin, you were exhausted. Dumbledore finally announced the last dance, and despite not wanting the night to end, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even so, you were disappointed to see such a perfect night come to a close. One last waltz began and you allowed Justin to once again pull you close to his body. "You really are beautiful.” he whispered as he led you in the dance. You blushed, your eyes glancing down the floor as a smile crept onto your face. Justin tilted your chin up gently so that he could look into your eyes. “(Y/N)?" 

"Yes?” you prompted.

“Will you be my girlfriend?" 

You couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across your face. "I would love nothing more.” His mouth formed into a grin to match yours before he leaned in to kiss you. This really was the perfect night. 

Clay Jensen

“Miss (Y/L/N), please stay after class for a moment.” Professor Flitwick requested as you tried to leave his room. You sighed as you turned around, knowing what this was about. “(Y/N), I know you’re very smart and you do well in every other class, but I can tell you’re struggling with Charms. I’ve arranged for a fellow Ravenclaw to tutor you. He will meet you in this classroom at the end of lessons today." 

"I have Quidditch practice today, sir.” you said, hoping to get out of this. 

“Yes, you will be finished before dinner. Practice is not until after dinner. You must improve in Charms if you’d like to stay on the team.” he retorted. You fought hard not to roll your eyes. 

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” you said with a sigh, leaving the room. 


After lessons that day, you went back to Flitwick’s classroom to meet your tutor. To your surprise, Clay Jensen was sitting at a desk when you walked in. 

“Clay? You’re my tutor?” you asked. 

“Seems like it. I didn’t know you needed a tutor, (Y/N)” he answered. 

“I usually don’t, but Charms is my worst class.” you admitted. 

He gave you a small smile, one that made your heart beat a little faster. “I can help with that.” he said softly. Maybe this tutoring thing won’t be so bad. 


After just two weeks of Clay’s help, your Charms work had improved significantly. You didn’t tell him this, though, because you secretly really enjoyed spending the time with him and you didn’t want it to end. 

“Professor Flitwick says you’re doing much better in class, (Y/N).” Clay said as he walked into the room one day. “You’ll be able to play in the match Friday!" 

You grinned. "All thanks to you.” you said with a wink, causing him to blush. 

When the match came on Friday, Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff, largely due to you catching the snitch early. This win was huge; it put you in the Cup finals with Gryffindor. So, naturally, your House rushed onto the field when you won. All around you, people yelled congratulations and clapped you on the back, but it didn’t take you long to spot the one classmate you were looking for. 

“Jensen!” you yelled, trying to make him hear you. He pushed through the crowd to get to you, offering his congratulations when he reached you. Smiling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Cheers erupted all around you, causing you to pull apart, laughing. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” You admitted. Grinned, he planted his lips on yours once more.

Originally posted by corn-flacks

Zach Dempsey

“You did what?!” you yelled at your boyfriend, making every other Hufflepuff in the common room turn to look at you. 

“Babe, calm down,” he mumbled, glancing around at everyone staring. 

“I most certainly will not calm down! Why would you enter your name for the Triwizard Tournament? Are you trying to get yourself killed, or are you just stupid?” To those around you, your words and your tone seemed to radiate anger, but inside? All you could feel was paralyzing fear. All of your blood had turned cold the moment your idiot boyfriend had told you he’d entered his name. 

“What, you think I can’t do it? You think I can’t win?” he challenged, losing all concern about your watching classmates. 

“You didn’t even discuss this with me, Zach! Since when do you not tell me things? Did you do this on a whim?” you retorted. He fixed his glare on the floor and didn’t answer. You scoffed. “Wonderful. Great. How lovely that you’re going to get yourself killed on impulse.” You turned and stormed out of the common room, feeling as though you were going to be sick.

“And the Hogwarts Champion is….” As Dumbledore took a dramatic pause, you silently prayed for him to say Cedric. or Angelina. or any other name but Zach’s. “…Zach Dempsey of Hufflepuff!” Your stomach dropped. The Great Hall erupted around you as your boyfriend rose from his seat farther down your House table. He wasn’t sitting next to you tonight; you hadn’t even spoken since your fight in the common room. He caught your eye as he walked forward, his usually loving gaze still full of love, but now mixed with other emotions: fear, pride, hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t believed in him. Hurt that you weren’t right there cheering him on with everyone else. Hurt that you two were still fighting.


Later that night, he approached you at your favorite chair in the common room. Your House was celebrating all around you, but your heart was broken at the thought of losing Zach. "Can we talk?“ he asked over the noise. 

You nodded, allowing him to pull you out of your chair and into a hallway. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” he muttered, pulling you against his chest. 

 You sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you, I’m just so scared.” you admitted, unable to stop the tears falling down your cheeks. He nodded, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he wiped the tears away with his thumbs. 

“Me too, babe." 

Alex Standall

"You know, the next Hogsmeade trip is on Valentine’s Day.” Alex said, sitting across the table from you at dinner one night. 

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You were lying through your teeth, of course. You had noticed, and after the past couple of “dates” you and Alex had been on (mainly studying dates and the occasions walk around the lake), you were hoping he’d make it official there. 

“Will you go with me? We could go to that little café thing all girls seem to love.” he suggested. 

“You mean Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop?" 

"Yeah, that one. Or somewhere else if you want, it’s up to you.” he said, cheeks tinged slightly red. 

“I would love to, Alex.” you said with a small smile. 


February 14th finally came a few days later, and after a bit of teasing from your friends, you went downstairs to meet Alex for your date. “Hey beautiful, ready to go?” he said once you’d met him in the Great Hall. You smiled as he took your hand and led you down the path to the little village. The walk wasn’t terribly long, but it was cold, so Alex gave you his jacket, refusing to hear your protests. When you finally made it to the tea shop, you were both relieved by the warmth in the place. He bought you both hot chocolate before you sat together in a little booth. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you let your hot chocolate warm you up. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice how cozy all of the couples looked, as though they had no care in the world except for each other. He finally broke the silence after a few minutes, your conversations ranging everywhere from classes to Quidditch to your home lives. 

He glanced down at his watch some time later, and a surprised look crossed his face. “We have to be back at school in half an hour." 

"We’ve been sitting here for 5 hours?” you asked, as startled as he looked. “Yeah, we should head back then!" 

"Wait.” he said, as you two stood up to leave. “Before we go… Will you be my girlfriend? Like, officially?" 

You smiled. "I would love to.”

Big Win [Stiles Lacrosse Week Smut]

Author: @dylan-ohbrien
Pairing: Stiles x Reader
Word Count: 3,285
Warnings: Smut (Oral male & female receiving), language that’s about it ;)
A/N: So this is my first time writing a Stiles fic and I thought what better first than one for lacrosse week? I wrote this in a few hours and I haven’t done that in forever so I’m pretty proud of myself for that lol, that being said, I’m sure there are errors that I missed. It’s just kinda cute and smutty so I hope you guys like it! :)

Originally posted by itsbecauseteenwolf

Keep reading

hypnotised | jughead x reader

a/n: wow my request box is overwhelming and quite frankly overflowing with love & requests and I want to take the time to say THANK YOU! lots of love 💐

Originally posted by conchord

tonight was the first pep rally back since summer vacation and lets just say i were very eager to be cheering again even if it was just a school scrimmage i walk up to my mirror and fixing my hair before applying another coat of mascara on my lashes. 

a few knocks on the door break me out of my trance “come in” i yell spritzing myself with perfume. “they girls are waiting for you downstairs” i nod at my mother “okay ill be down in a second” 

i grab my bag and follow my mother footsteps down the stairs and out the door “see ya later mum!” i yell out “goodluck baby” she yes back as i close the door.

“you ready?” betty asks tilting her head to the side her blonde hair swinging in its pony tail “i sure am wheres V?” i glance past her to see the raven haired girl standing at the bottom of my driveway.

the three of us set off to the school talking a little before veronica brings up your relationship with jughead. all your friends were placing bets on how long it took for you guys to finally kiss and confess your undying love for each other.

you’d know jughead for most of your life and yes maybe i did indeed have a crush on the beautiful brunette boy but he didn’t know that and thats how i planned to keep it. 

“oh give it a rest, he doesn’t like me like that!” i defend myself annoyed.

“yeah funny thats exactly what he says” i roll my eyes growling loud “let me livvvveee” i groan crossing my arms across my chest.

“fine fine we’ll change the subject” it falls quite as the school comes into view “like how jughead is going to drool when he sees you on that cheer leading costume”.

“jeez V its a uniform! plus it won’t be the first time he’ll see me in it. he won’t care your reading way too much into it” 

she shakes her finger in my face “or maybe your not looking in enough? do you notice that when your in your uniform he cant seem to look at your face? or that he can’t form a single sentence?”

the clogs start moving in my brain and i come to a sudden stop “oh my god- wait does juggie have a cheerleader kink?” i giggle walking with the two giddy girls into the locker room.

“well you wanna know how he really feels right?” v ask as i shove my gym bag into the locker “V i don’t want to mess what we have up okay?” she rolls her eyes closing my locker and standing infant of me.

“so not a single thread of you wants to be with him?” i huff i am the worst liar so i just fess up “yes okay yes but i don’t want to ruin anything okay!” 

“i have an idea” she smiles wickedly “oh god what?”


veronica and betty hd proposed to me to test out the ‘cheerleader’ theory in order to figure out if the  reunites feelings were platonic or not. i was nervous for the first time rushing out to the field and pumping up the school students and parents in the bleachers.

i spot jughead during our stretches, he was leaning against the side of the bleacher searching the crowd of vixens for someone, his eyes settle on mine and smile and i put my hand up waving smally before returning my attention to the squad.

“okay lets go vixens” cheryl yells getting us all onto our feet as we pump up the crowd for the football boys.

we grab our poms and rustling them together hanging and cheering as the break through the banner the red header archie leading the back i smile brightly at my best friend.

the boys settle down and dissipate going their separate ways before meeting back up for the big game. i take this as my opportunity to walk over to the beanie boy.

i move past the crowd and smile at the brunette boy as i work my way over he moves off the bleacher and works his way to the half fence before the field.

someone grabs my waist before i have the chance to walk over the tracks “well hello this miss (y/n) (y/l/n)” i roll my eyes placing my hands over my chest “reggie.” 

“love to stay in chat but i got my important business to get to like clawing my eyes out” i go to push past him concern on jugheads face.

he grabs onto my waist and pulls me back “let me go reggie” i growl trying to get out of his iron grip, he doesn’t budge just smirks down at me

 “i said-” i didn’t even get to finish my sentence before someone does it for me

“she said let go” i glance to see jughead looking as angry as ever “what are you her boyfriend?” he teases flicking something him to launch himself at reggie shoving his chest.

reggie tosses me aside and i stumble to get my feet.

“c’mon just having a little fun with the little princess, we have a little thing us bulldogs. how many vixens can we hook with at these things and well-” 

he doesnt get to finish his sentence because jughead launches himself at the raven haired boy but he’s quick to retaliate throwing jughead on the ground and starting to throw punches to his face.

i run forward trying to pull the boys away from each other but i wasn’t strong enough i whirl around and everyone seems a bit curious in the events “arch!” i yell the red head sees his best friend in distress and rushes over healing reggie off.

i drop to the floor helping jughead sit up “oh my god jug-” i place my hand on his cheek and he winces slightly.

“I’m sorry” i tell him glancing at all he’s already bruising eye “its okay- i had to protect you” i giggle placing my hand on his thigh “thank you” i turn to see veronica and betty making gestures and i roll my eyes facing jughead

“whats got them all frazzled” he chuckles making me smiling stupidly “don’t hate me for this”

i lean forward and place a soft kiss on his split lip, he kisses back then pulls away wincing “okay ow!” he complains and i laugh before he faces turns serious “sorry” i giggle trying to keep a straight face.

“to be continued? when i can actually kiss you back when bloods not pouring from my lip?” i nod kisses his cheek and helping him to his feet

 “of course”

Promises (FE Heroes Fanfic)

Here’s my first Fire Emblem Heroes fanfic. More of a drabble, so please excuse the typos. I’ve fallen into Kiran/Alfonse hell lately thanks to some key conversations in the game.

For reference: my Kiran was a loner before he met the Askr royals, and has anxiety and a bit of social issues as well. He wears the hood pulled down to get distance from the others. This takes place after months of fighting, and toward the end of Chapter 9 in FE Heroes. (I blame @g-r-i-m-a for this.)


He’s dead.
Alfonse is dead, and it’s all Kiran’s fault. They all are, and Kiran squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before digging his fingers into the grass and making to rush onto the field.
“Wait,” Anna says, and holds him back. “Wait until they’re gone.”
He doesn’t want to - not with Alfonse’s blood on the ground, on the shining lance of their opponent. But he listens anyway, settling back on his stomach at the top of the hill, where they could observe and direct from a distance.
So weak. Such bad decisions. What good is it to wield Briedablik, if he can’t keep them from death?
Kiran ducks his head into the grass, and breathes the earthy scent until Anna taps him on the shoulder.
He rushes to Alfonse first. Anna says nothing as his panic comes out. He whispers the prince’s name as he presses Breidablik to that too-still chest and pulls the trigger.
It takes three shots, this time.
“Come back,” he whispers. “Alfonse… Please.”
Kiran stares into Alfonse’s wide, unseeing eyes, watching the spark and the light return to them. Only then does he duck into the cowl of his cloak, relief and pain warring with each other.
Kiran smiles as Alfonse’s hand tightens in his, as he comes back to life. He squeezes harder and harder on their clasped hands every time he comes back, or so Kiran thinks.
He rises when Alfonse’s hand slackens, and hurries to the others, pleased when they all come back to life. But in the back of his mind is the fact that he brought them to this point. He may not have swineg the weapon that issued that final blow, but he still did it. He orchestrated this whole battle, from triumphant beginning to bitter end. If he had just been a better tactician, none of this would have happened. He squeezes his jaw and his hands, standing to the side as the dead come back to life.
Suddenly, Alfonse is there, lifting the corner of his hood and peeking in, soft blue eyes lidded slightly with affection. Kiran swallows a gasp and swats the prince’s hand away, capturing his slender wrist to keep him from pulling away.
Alfonse freezes, and Kiran takes a few breaths, praying for his voice to go normal, to not sound like he’s crying. He hoped the prince of Askr won’t speak before he is able to. And for some reason, he doesn’t. He waits, sending that Kiran has something to say.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” he whispers eventually.
“Kiran,” Alfonse says. His voice is soft and warm like a plush down comforter that he can just burrow into. “You didn’t fail. Things like this happen.”
“I… I don’t want to lose you.” The words squeak out of Kiran. “My heart leaps whenever you fall.”
“I come back to you,” Alfonse says, and takes his hand. “I wait for you. I feel you calling to me to stay.”
That only makes him feel worse. Kiran drops Alfonse’s wrist and draws his bottom lip in, a subconscious effort to keep from crying.
“Kiran,” Alfonse says, and there’s meaning to it. “Look at me.”
When Alfonse pulls back the cowl, Kiran lets him. Alfonse’s fingers run back through his hair when the hood is off, and then down his cheek.
“I’ll always come back to you,” Alfonse promises.
Kiran looks up from Alfonse’s golden pin, holding his cloak in place. He looks into those blue eyes, and he sees that promise, and deeper, the ache of passing through the curtain of death and back to him. Alfonse touches his face and his thumb trails along his bottom lip.
“Always,” Alfonse promises, and there’s none of that holding back, like there was at the beginning, when Kiran first met Alfonse and Shareena. He’s let another Hero in, and Kiran realizes with a start that it’s him. Alfonse cares for him.
The prince ducks close - he’s taller than Kiran by a few inches - and presses their foreheads together. “Always,” he says again.
An ache within Kiran’s chest eases, and he relaxes into Alfonse’s hand.
He touches the prince’s chest, feeling his heart beating beneath the armor. “Then I’ll always come to bring you back,” he promises back.
His eyes are closed, but he can feel Alfonse’s pleased smile like the warmth of sunlight, beaming across his face. Kiran smiles too, smiles back, and prays to whatever gods the Askr believe in that they can both keep their promises.

Veronica Lodge imagines - Fallen pearls

Originally posted by conners-kent

AN: Alright, I’m giving in and writing Riverdale imagines now. God dammit, I told myself I wouldn’t jump onto another fandom wagon but here I am, inspired after the last episode and my undeniable crush on Ronnie Lodge. 

This one is dedicated to all my loves out there that adore this chick as much as I but there is no fan fiction to read about her. 

Summary: After the news that Ronnie’s dad has hurt many families, you’re there for Ronnie in a way Betty can’t be. 

Pairing: Veronica x reader

Word count: 790 (short but sweet)

Warnings: None, some strong language 

“Where’s Ronnie?” You rushed up to Betty as she stood by her locker. You had heard from Kevin that Veronica had a melt down earlier that day and you couldn’t believe she hadn’t come to you about it. 

“Woah…Hey…” Betty chuckled as you had startled her slightly with your urgent question. 

“Veronica Lodge?” You asked again, shaking your head.

“Um…I don’t know, she might be by the bleachers getting some fresh air. That’s what she told me but…” You cut Betty short by rushing out to the school field. 

Betty was right, Veronica was sat on the bleachers, alone, watching the guys practice football. You could see Archie’s bright red hair from a mile off and you could tell he was the one that Veronica was watching. 

You didn’t call her name, or try and get her attention; you just silently climbed the bleachers to get to her. 

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anonymous asked:

I wish you write a fic where Aaron is on his way to a meeting and it's a long train journey. To kill time, he starts scrolling through his phone. He goes over all the stupid text convos with Rob. And then looks through the photos that he's taken of him and Rob. And reminiscing the little story behind each one. And he realises how happy he is with Robert. We don't usually get things from Aaron's POV and how much Robert means to him. Would really like it if you wrote this insanely fluffy fic. :)

i changed it slightly if thats okay (very slightly) but this was the most!! fun to write anon, so thank you for this gorgeous prompt! (it got a bit long, so enjoy.)

we keep this love in a photograph

aaron reminisces about some of his happy moments with robert on a train journey home (1,811)

Aaron settled into his seat on the train, a cup of tea in hand as he began his long journey home to Emmerdale. He’d had to get the train down to London for a few meetings, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the three hour journey home. He didn’t deal well with long journeys at the best of times, and he was bone tired and just longing for his own bed, in his own flat (and maybe a pint, before he slept for at least two days.)

London was busy, and exhausting, and it was the first time in a long time he hadn’t gone with Robert by his side, his husband there to distract him from boring train journeys and busy cities with a smile and an overly enthusiastic list of things for them to do together.


Aaron barely held in a sigh as he thought about his husband. They’d been fighting a lot lately, over ridiculous things, and it was driving Liv, and his mum, and everyone else insane.

Rooting for his phone, Aaron sat back in his chair and glanced at his screen, seeing he had a few messages from Adam, and Liv. Replying to the work related texts from his best mate first, he turned his attention to Liv’s snapchats, wondering what ridiculousness his sister had sent him now.

“Robert, why does your face look like that?” Liv asked, her camera pointed at a serious looking Robert, who was hunched over his computer.

Robert glanced up, rolling his eyes at Liv, his blonde hair ruffled and out of place. “If this goes on your snapchat story, I’m going to let Aaron make dinner for the next month and you can get scurvy.”

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh at Robert’s response, and the cheeky face Liv had pulled in the next snapchat she’d sent him.

Liv was brilliant, she really was.

Feeling more lonely now than he had before, Aaron started to scroll through his photo album, skimming through the thousands of photos and videos he’d somehow ended up with. He’d never really considered himself a sentimental person, but he had a lot of good things to document over the past few years.

Pausing at a recent photo of Robert, Aaron felt his heart swell with love for the man in the photo. He’d taken it one lazy Sunday morning, Robert in bed with the duvet pulled up around his waist, reading a new book.

He was always lost in his own world, when he read, Aaron remembered, totally lost in the pages until he’d read it from cover to cover. After a quiet, sleepy round of Sunday morning sex, Robert had decided he’d stay in bed and enjoy his book for a while - Aaron had gone to get them both a cup of tea when he’d come back to see Robert so enthralled in his book, he’d had to take a picture.

It was one of those little things he’d learned about Robert after they’d decided to give their relationship a proper go, his love for reading. Aaron knew the easiest way to keep Robert happy, or brighten up a day was to just buy him a new book, the newest science fiction novel or murder mystery.

Aaron wasn’t a reader, really, but he liked seeing his husband so invested.

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“Everything’s Going To Be Just Fine “ - Brett Talbot and Scott McCall AU Imagine

Requested by @supercarricat - Hello lovely writer, I want to request an imagine (english isn’t my first language, so sorry for grammar mistakes): Can I request an Imagine where Y/N and Brett transfer to Beacon Hills High School and she sees Lydia flirting with him and gets jealous. And she confronts Brett an they fught? just fluffy happy end (with the happy end it can be as sad as you like in the middle. But please, happy end :D) Thank you very much 

Requested by Anon: Oooh. Could you please do a Scott imagine during S6 and the reader is a celestial kitsune and isn’t affected by the ghost riders? Maybe during the lacrosse game or something. Its up to you but mainly like, fight scenes?? Or when Theo comes back. Thank youuuuu

Word Count: 2,993

Warnings: reader being stabbed

Author’s note: Okay, because I was struggling to come up with something long enough to read for both of these two requests, I decided to put these two together. Especially since the person who sent in the Scott request didn’t specify if the reader was a love interest for Scott or not. I decided to have them be best friends and the reader is romantically involved with Brett. I hope y'all don’t mind with the changes I made for this imagine. Happy reading!

[My Teen Wolf Master List]

Originally posted by anything-and-everything-imagines

When my best friend, Scott, called to tell me The Ghost Riders were in Beacon Hills, I knew transferring to Beacon Hills High was the perfect solution. I’m not a werewolf like Scott and Liam, a werecoyote like Malia, or a banshee like Lydia. However, I am pretty savvy with a sword and know martial arts, the perks of being a celestial kitsune for 500 years.

When I explained to my boyfriend, Brett, why I was transferring schools, he didn’t like the idea at first. He knew Scott was a great True Alpha and had a pack that always seems to beat the impossible, but he refused to let me out of his sight. He transferred with me, as he is very protective when it comes to my safety. You’d think I would find it sweet, or even romantic, but lately it’s been annoying to have someone on your heels of every second of every day.

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Guess who just saw Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2

So basically GOTG vol 2 is Empire Strikes Back complete with rushing into an asteroid field, an evil asshole father who is far more extra than Darth Vader because FRICKIN’ PLANET (frickin was not my actual word) and a badass daddy who gave me ALL THE FEELS AND TEARS But of course the SW universe does not have baby Groot.

Originally posted by kane52630

Wonder Woman Review

I was questioning whether or not to do this, but on the advice of @byzantinefox and @bantarleton, I’ve decided to make a post addressing the events portrayed in the film. I’m not a film critic or scholar (my wondertrev buddy @twoquickdeaths could probably say more about those aspects of it than I could), but I am a history major with a great interest in the First World War. Hence, I will be addressing the events of the film, their historical context, and the way they are portrayed. WARNING: Spoilers below!

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anonymous asked:

Dude! I'm not asking for a fic cos you're crazy busy. I just want to shout into the void at you. But so many different variants of Graves out there. Why choose 1? What if he had DID and so all of them are him in one bundle? You think that's possible?

Oh my goodness what a fun concept! Just like, he comes back from Grindelwald and captivity, only something’s distinctly different. His mind has coped, learned to protect itself, and now there are many versions of Percival Graves where there used to be one. They keep the man as a consultant while the mediwizards try to figure out how to make the many one again - and for the most part, the many versions of Percival Graves don’t mind.

Tina finds it all rather fascinating, although it does creep some of the other aurors out.

They keep a little journal, each of them. Whenever someone writes in theirs, the note shows up in all of them. They have a page for each identity and try to keep up with Graves like that.

He might be Tina’s favorite. He’s a grumpy, emotional, blunt mess of a man - but he’s kind in a weird, harsh way that makes Tina fond of him. He’s the emotional side of Graves. The part of Graves that has remembered and regretted every lost soul, every suspect accidentally killed instead of apprehended, every man that got away, every victim they couldn’t save. His shoulders sag beneath the weight of a sadness he hides behind hilarious expressions and copious drinking. They know when Ray is in control because he wears jeans and a blazer jacket, smells of liquor, and has this look in his eyes - this unfathomable sadness - that makes him simultaneously easy to approach and yet miles away from any of them. He’s got a bit of an accent, this Irish lit, and Tina finds out that all this time, Graves has been hiding his Irish heritage and her mind is blown. 

If she thought Ray had an accent, Marty has an accent. Quick to befuddlement and easily overwhelmed - Marty is a writer. A rather good one at that, when he’s sober. He follows them around with a little notebook and asks all sorts of questions. He is the creativity in Graves. The keen mind. He’s sympathetic and eager. Quick to smiling, quicker to booze. He says cruel, honest things when he’s drunk (and he’s drunk a lot, though the smell is the only thing that gives him away). He says kind, encouraging things when he’s sober. He wishes them luck. He apologizes for not being more than he is. He knows he’s broken. He knows he isn’t right. He knows what man they’re looking for when they come to him for good luck before a mission. He claps them on the shoulder all the same, presses their foreheads together, and says “Come back in one piece. I’ll keep trying to bring him back for you.”

Strike that, David is her favorite. He’s a smol man. She knows when David’s in the driver’s seat because Graves’ body language changes completely. His shoulders hunch in. His eyes gain this doe-eyed blankness, this utter heartbreaking hope to be noticed - and his voice is soft and kind and a little awkward, but generally as Irish as his other personalities. He speaks plainly and kindly. He moves awkwardly, afraid of using anyone else’s space. Afraid of being noticed. He likes to eat comfort foods that Graves would never allow himself to eat. Flaky pastries and soft pies and other little treats. David isn’t out enough to really affect Graves’ waistline, but Tina loves to bring him sweats when he is around - she loves every moment of watching David eat. He eats like he doesn’t deserve it. She loves to see him in awe of his food. She loves to see him happy. David is Graves’ fears in one body. He’s afraid of spiders, of all things - though he won’t make a sound. He’ll just politely and awkwardly excuse himself from the spider’s space. It’s adorable. He’s afraid of eye contact. Afraid of beautiful men or ladies (Queenie especially, which makes her fond of him to no end). Afraid of Picquery - he practically runs from the woman.

Afraid his aurors won’t come home.

When he’s around and the aurors go on missions, he nervously switches from foot to foot, hand twitching as though to reach out. The first time Tina hugs him before a mission, he sinks into her gratefully and sighs into her hair - “Please be careful.”

Douglas is a soft spoken man, but he is also a deadly man. His body moves like a cat. He was trained to kill. He is the fire in Graves during a duel. He is his stealth, his endless energy, his power. The one time he was present to accompany them on a raid, they closed up the mission in minutes rather than hours. He is a force to be reckoned with - unbridled and passionate. Where Graves was controlled, he is a tornado. Anything and everything in his path laid to waste. They knew their Director was powerful.

What they did not know was that Graves was like an iceberg and all that they had seen was just the deadly tip - miles of possibilities silent below the surface.

Douglas is incredibly protective of them. He binds their injuries when they come back. He trains them when he can. He works out with them. He’s hard on them. He wants them to be safe. He knows that some of them won’t come back. He subtly says goodbye to them each time they leave; hopeful, but pessimistic. 

Tina avoids Jerry. He is deadly just as Douglas is deadly, but not because he was trained to be a weapon - because he is a predator. She can see it in his eyes. Danger, fighting, blood, war - these things are fun to Jerry. And with a start she realizes that while many parts of Graves regret the causalities of his job - the victims, the death, the violence - one part of him is thrilled by it. Thrilled by his power, by his ability to survive, to win, to overcome. Not only that, but Jerry is Graves’ sexuality. Something she honestly didn’t even think the man had. Quiet and subdued and professional as he is, it’s hard to think that Jerry stems from him. That the raw sexuality that Jerry puts into his hips when he towers over Tina despite being shorter than Tina comes from Graves in some capacity - that their stern director is capable of making that steamy look. He makes aurors beeline for the bathrooms. He makes Queenie blush one day just by passing and no doubt sending her a stray thought because he knows she can hear him. He wears tight shirts and tight pants and absolutely nothing that leaves anything to the imagination. She didn’t know his butt was so pert. That his crotch could make a pair of pants bulge like that and – the aurors don’t like to write on Jerry’s page often. No one wants to admit how…effective his advances are.

There is one note that suddenly appears one day below Jerry. It says simply: “Where the hell is he getting all these apples?!”

Tina knows there’s more. There’s a page labeled Charles, but no one managed to glean much information about him yet. Another named ‘John’ and ‘Jim’. There’s ‘Danny’ - a young, professional man who most resembles what the older aurors consider to be Graves’ younger self when he first entered the department. He’s sharp as a whip, very fond of Graves’ usual fashion, and all too eager to rush into the field and catch their man. He’s familiar in a way that makes’ Tina’s heart hurt.

But none hurt as much as the man himself. Tina has only found him once, huddled in the corner of his office - blank eyes staring out over the hills of his knees, curled in tight on himself. 

He doesn’t answer when she calls to him. She sits beside him and waits, hoping he’ll say something. He just trembles instead. She decides to fill the silence with her voice and hopes it’ll bring him home. She talks about Jacob’s bakery and Newt’s new book. She tells him about the Occamy that lives in her dresser because somehow it got left behind, though it doesn’t seem to mind. Embarrassingly enough, it appears to love the soft silk of Tina’s panties. She talks about their missions and their progress. She tells him about the weather, in case he hasn’t been around to notice.

She only stops when a large, shaking hand finally reaches for hers in the space between them. When she looks over to him, he’s not staring at nothing anymore - he’s looking at her. He looks exhausted. Dark circles beneath his eyes, his gaze haunted. He looks weak. He looks lost.

He looks like home. He looks like Percival Graves.

Her eyes fill before she can stop herself.

“I miss you,” she whimpers.

He licks his lips and tries to smile. He almost manages it, too.

“I know,” he says. “I miss you, too.”


Characters: CastielXReader

Word Count: 649

A/N: Short sweet drabble about you, an angel, and a thunderstorm. I certainly could have used a Castiel today when I was caught in the rain.

The fresh earthy scent of petrichor drifted in on a gentle breeze, softly rustling the curtains of the open window - an errant gust directing the garden wind chimes in a harmonious chorus, their unique song muffled by the thickly humid late summer air. The familiar omens of the promise of refreshing drought-quenching rain, dreamt of relief from oppressive heat, roused your fitfully slumbering sweat-sheened body, luring you like a magnet from bed to wander into the darkness of the night.

Bare feet scratched and tickled, indenting the dried grass along your path, you plod a careful trail from the porch to join the motionless figure serenely standing sentinel in the yard. Rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your eyes, you hopefully scanned toward the origins of the burgeoning winds. Already you could perceive the alternately yellow-green and purple reflection of lightning illuminating the clouds over the horizon and hear the deep rumble of distant thunder indicating the storm’s swift approach.

Tilting your head, aspect alight with a smile in giddy excitement at the inclement weather, you peered sidelong at the angel beside you. It didn’t surprise you to find him out here in solitude directly in the path of an oncoming storm - after all, the eye of the storm seemed to be where he was most at home.

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Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one’s weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.

Mahatma Gandhi

The River Bends Us: A Criminal Minds Fanfiction

Spencer Reid x Reader

Rating: Mature   Setting: Season 9

The woman dragged herself across the grass by her elbows, each handful of blades slipping through her shaking fists. Her dark natural hair was full of debris, her legs trailing behind were bare with the exception of the panties that were stuck on her ankles and pants lodged in her sensible heeled sandals. A dark figure had been following her, she couldn’t see or hear where they were now. She just knew she had to get away.

“Help me!” She pleaded into the swampy night; her voice coming out in rattled whispers. The night creatures moved on, calling in croaks and buzzes to their kind. Suddenly something grabbed her limp ankle and dragged her backwards into the night. She looked up to see the cloudless June sky as the fist connected with her temporal bone one last time.

David Rossi was burning the midnight oil, he had started another book and he was typing furiously on his laptop. His luxurious study was ablaze, despite the late hour. He had started the evening enjoying a cigar, but inspiration had taken his attention away from his humidor. The surround sound played a swinging big band number and he hummed under his breath. The buzzing of his cell was hidden against the latest crescendo. The voicemail was finally listened to around 2 am when Agent Rossi got up to stretch his legs.

The BAU was ready and waiting on the jet, when Rossi finally joined the team. The older night owl made his apologies and you were all in the air, heading to St Louis. Garcia had filled you in before you boarded: three bodies found in a ten mile radius of the city’s south-side. All victims were in various states of decomposition, but all were found within twenty four hours of each other. The flight was a quick one, but the M.E. wouldn’t be ready for the team right away.

You hide a wide yawn behind your right hand and bunch up your hoodie as a pillow for the short nap the flight allows you. It had been a quiet week of filing reports and parole hearings for you, but it was still too damn late for a flight. You said a quick thank you to the universe as the lights dimmed.

The huddled man muttered into his clasped hands. His room was stark and he was bent over a simple flannel comforter. The night outside brought sounds of festivities: voices and music were on the air. He cringed at the frivolity and continued his prayers. Meanwhile the woman in the corner struggled against her gag.

A rousing sensation tucks the hair behind your ear. You shrug your shoulder to your ear, pinning Spencer’s hand to your cheek. He bends down and quickly kisses your head before leaving the jet. You smile to yourself for the sweet wake up gesture. You quickly unfurl yourself from your seat and grab your go bag.

The standard black SUVs were waiting for you in the early morning air. The humidity coated your skin, but your waking nerves still shivered in the heat. Since you were the last agent off the tarmac, you filed into the closest vehicle with an open door. You slid in beside Derek, who was keeping his drowsy eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. 

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Originally posted by dylan-obrien

Request: Hi! Could you do a stiles stilinski imagine? Like maybe in 3rd grade i was such a geek, tried to impress him so much, and liked him but he never payed attention to me, but now i come back being badass and a werewolf maybe? U can continue it! Thx!

Notes: So, second fic up today and my first Stiles fic! Feedback is appreciated, let me know what you guys think!

“Hi Stiles!” Your small, third-grade self waved to the boy as he passed you, hoping to elicit some response.

“Oh. Hey.” Is all you get as a reply before Stiles turns back around, talking to Scott. You sigh quietly, turning into your classroom and finding your spot, sinking down in your chair and trying to focus on learning something, unlike the rest of your classmates as they did nothing but talk on all sides of you.

Being ignored was a common occurrence for you, especially by Stiles. You were quiet, and didn’t fit in with his friends, leaving you as nothing more than an acquaintance forced into the same classroom. It’s not like you didn’t try to gain his attention. You would try to talk to him, do little things to impress him, but nothing you did seemed to interest the boy you were crushing on.

You assumed it would go away as you got older. Boy, were you wrong.

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schoolboy! jeno


- aight 

- so

- you guys go to the same school but don’t really know each other 

- actually, you never heard of jeno but he never heard of you so-

- but then

- during ultimate frisbee tryouts, you accidentally throw a frisbee at his face

- so y'all need to go to the nurses


- “ya,,,,,just a lil bloody”


- somehow u both made the team

- so like y'all became pretty close

- even tho u threw a frisbee at his face in your first encounter

- anyway

- so u guys become close right, like close enough to go to each others houses n shit

- cause u b struggling with homework and needs ya homeboi to help u

- n secretly he realized he liked u

- like one day, he just noticed u

- you know what I’m saying

- like, he saw your beauty for all its worth, and since then, he’s been totally in love w u

- its pretty obvious

- during practice n tournaments, he only passes to u

- and always compliments you-


- “jeno thats like ur 9839893th time saying it to me, i think i get it”

-” bUt itS SoO gOOd!!!!!!”

- lol dis boi has no chill

- everyone on the team knows

- even you (he doesn’t know that part tho)

- so they plan on getting u two together

- and so jaemin being jenos bff aside from u

- creates this masterplan on getting yall’s together by “accidentally” throwing a frisbee at jeno’s face 

- plan doesn’t work though cause u just laugh at him while he n jaemin start chucking discs at each other

- plan b was to “accidentally” trip jeno and you would help him

- but nope, you didn’t help him. you laughed at him

- literally after like 83983983 plans

- jaemin just told u that jeno liked you

- honestly he gave up

- but its ok tho cause you like him back

- so then jaemin spilled da beans to jeno who

- was!!!so!!!happy!!!!

- and now calls b wheeling

- bUT!!!!

- jeno gets the courage to ask you out

- its the most glorious thing you’ve ever seen

- just imagine jeno stuttering while holding roses and looking down at the ground 


- time skip 2 months

- y'all r now that couple

- like the one everyone wants

- but can’t have

- like you guys walk to and from school together

- walk to your next classes together

- do everything together


- ok so ofc its related to frisbee

- it was the city championships rite

- and y'all were, catch this:

- ONE POINT AWAY FROM WINNING (y'all were at your 14th point)

- and jeno wasn’t on the same shift as u

- which made him sad

- but 

- you were in the end zone

- and the handler throws you the frisbee cause u made a really nice cut and deeked out your defender

- but the throw was too high




- so then jeno like rushes onto the field

- and kisses u

- right there

- in front of everybody

- u didn’t care tho




- goals

- yo storytime

- when u met


- okokokok so


- and y'all were cuddling on the couch while playing mario kart or smth

- thEN aLL oF a suDDEn 

- his parents like barge into the house

- but freeze when they see you

- “,,,,,,jeno,,,,is this the girl you always talked about?”

- “mo-,,,,,ya”



- lol how old r y'all again? like 17 lol

- anyway u and jeno like couldn’t look at each other

- for a solid hour

- but its ok



- the mom tries to be all overprotective

- but she soon realizes that ur an innocent lil rice bun that doesn’t mean harm :(

- moving on

- jeno luvs u sm like kjskcdfhdcsxchfnsxjdms he is gonna go all out for u

- he spoils u to death

- and just


- appreciate him pls





||❥ the pitcher

m i n g y u ! s c e n a r i o 

b a s e b a l l ! a u

Originally posted by 7teans

words; 2.5k

genre; fluffs + mingyu bein a flirt, the good stuff

synopsis; an anon requested a baseball!au with mingyu and though it is no where near as long as woozi’s, it’s just something that i’d been thinking about. basically it’s you and mingyu bein’ cute when he tries to show you how to do his famous pitch and just know it hurt me a lot writing this :’)

“If you keep staring at yourself in the mirror, you’ll miss practice." 

The words wryly rolled off your tongue upon watching a very meticulous Kim Mingyu rake crooked fingers through his hair, brows pinched together in pure focus as his gaze bore into the tiny mirror magnetized to his locker. You had been fiddling with his baseball cap for the past few minutes or so, trying very roughly to scrape together some patience.

"My hair looks stupid.” Mingyu mumbled in a manner that made it seem he was containing a conversation with himself. A sigh that stretched deeper than the ocean heaved past your lips, a stiff hand thrusting Mingyu’s baseball cap directly into his chest. You examined how he brushed back his messy bangs of dark gingerbread before fitting the cap rightfully so over his head, giving himself one final inspection that you secretly deemed unnecessary.

“It won’t matter anyways,” you balked to Mingyu while slamming his locker door shut, “your hat is covering it all up.” He faced you with a pout that only brought out the natural pink tint to his lips, sultry eyes of darkened oak gleaning over you petulantly.

“You’re not suppose to agree with me, babe.” The lanky boy protested, though his sulky ways were suddenly disintegrating with a snap, hands pushing up the sleeves on his worn out baseball uniform while he bounced on the heels of his feet.

 He was gazing somewhere past the top of your head, presumably littering himself with encouragements to get himself excited for practice. That is until he checked his watch, pupils blowing into full and inky discs before Mingyu was sprinting down the hall.

“Shit,” he had warbled, “I’m 12 minutes late!”

Shocker. You couldn’t avoid thinking, a grin just peaking along your lips as you wandered down the empty hall and out the doors, a glimmer of sunlight languidly washing over the schoolyard. 

Mingyu was still rushing toward the baseball field, one of your featherlight chuckle’s ringing in the air upon the sight of a much shorter baseball player whacking him on the head. You made your way to the bleachers to watch him practice, soaking up the sunlight while it was pleasantly available.

Mingyu was the baseball team’s best pitcher, and someone you befriended while accidentally getting hit in the stomach with a baseball bat during eighth grade. He was the one who struck you rather harshly, though it was completely your fault for concentrating on your iPod while approaching some scruffy kid rambling over his, new and improved striking power.

 He spent a good amount of breath apologizing to you, but even spent even more breath bombarding you with questions of, did you see my stance though? First impressions were, yeah, he’s kinda dumb and a bit cocky but he’s cute and one of the only people here who talk to me.

You could and would easily say to anyone that you had a strong bond, the two of you sticking it out through the hellish ways of high school. Under a very watchful eye did you get to see that scruffy and kinda clueless kid flourish into some rich gift from the heavens, your heart slamming into your throat when you snatched a proper glimpse of him on your first day of senior year.

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