shitty grin

I still haven’t decided which form of pun delivery I prefer

  • said with a shitty grin, followed by a “aaaaaaahhhhhhh?” that increases in volume and pitch (finger pistols optional but recommended)
  • said in absolute deadpan with no change in facial expression and no follow-up at all
  • said online where nobody can tell what you’re doing as you write it
  • UPS worldwide expedited with tracking
It’s Just Netflix...Chill

Originally posted by jayparkisagod

It’s Just Netflix…Chill
[Jay tried]



“Baby please! Pretty please? With a cherry on top. We’ll even watch whatever you want.”

Sighing you rolled your eyes. Your phone wedged between your shoulder against your ear while you tried to clean up around your office. “Jay, you hate my shows. I just wanna go home. Take a nice long bath, and catch up on my dramas.”

“You can do that all at my place, come on I haven’t seen you a month.”

“And whose fault is that Rapstar?”

Jay had a tendency of going ghost for weeks at a time. Rather it was for recording, business, or tours he’d usually be gone for a while. You two weren’t clingy about your relationship, and you always had something else going on to distract you so it wasn’t too bad. But when he did come back he’d always be a little too clingy. It honestly was adorable, and you always got a kick in making him beg.

“I’m sorry Baby, come on I just wanna see you.”

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we are the reckless, we are the wild youth

[From my own prompt here @ omgcppromptsplease]

Jack tried to remind himself that couldn’t make it to playoffs if he murdered half his line.

He’d been asleep when the call came. “Brah,” Shitty had slurred, too loud and staticky in Jack’s ear. “Jack, we need you to bring us clothes.”

“Why?” Jack had asked. If this was another case of Shitty stripping down and forgetting where he’d put his pants, then Jack was hanging up and letting him deal with it alone. “Who’s we?”

“The boys,” Shitty said, as if that meant something. “You know, like me and Rans and Holtzy and Bits.”

It was the mention of Bittle that made Jack sit up straight. “Why do you all need clothes?”

“Because we went skinny dipping,” Shitty said, as if that were obvious. “And the Chads stole our clothes while we were in the water.”

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Rebel Loner Girl (& the Babysitter of The Year)

Paring: Steve Harrington/Reader

Tags: female reader, fluff, punk, you’re a loner, character development, family dynamics, dysfunctional family, past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler.

Summary:  You thought it would be a simple drop off for your sister to go to the Snow Ball, but when you have two options,

a) sit in the car and read Will Buyers’ Spider-Man comics, or
b) catch a ride anywhere else with Steve Harrington 

–it’s kind of obvious which one you’ll go for.

Word Count: 2,330

Current Date: 2017-11-16

Originally posted by strangerthingsedits

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inimitablebiscuit  asked:

Erm Flintwood please if you're still doing 150. * Winning smile *

pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood

setting: modern, non-magical, soulmates-at-first-touch au

word count: 1394

Marcus punches his soulmate in the face the first time they meet.



It’s worse than that.

Marcus punches his soulmate in the face the first time they meet, the flats of his knuckles crunching against the guy’s jaw, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark and hurt—and then there’s a strange fluttering sensation erupting in the pit of Marcus’s stomach, a comforting, calming warmth suffusing the blood in his veins and the marrow in his bones and it’s exactly like how they’d described it in Health class, the awareness—the connection—slotting into place so seamlessly that he’s astonished he’d never noticed something missing before now.  

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus blurts out. “Oh—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Marcus’s soulmate—who’s tall and lean and has the prettiest brown eyes, what the shit—is just sprawled out on the dirty arena floor, blinking and blinking and prodding gingerly at the bruise that’s already beginning to blossom—

“No,” the guy says firmly. “This isn’t happening.”

“Fuck you,” Marcus immediately snaps. “I rejected you first.”

The guy snorts, kind of irritatingly sarcastic, before grimacing. His emotions, so far as Marcus can tell, are all over the place; shock and dismay and frustration and—very, very deeply—a flickering, almost unwilling tremor of interest.  

“It wouldn’t work, anyway,” the guy goes on, more loudly. “You have terrible opinions about hockey.”

“Fuck you,” Marcus snaps again. “You’re the one in the shitty jersey.”

“He’s won three Cups.”

“Yeah, and he was a fucking healthy scratch for two of them,” Marcus retorts. “Try again.”

“Hockey is a team sport,” the guy says hotly. “It isn't—it isn’t about individual accomplishments.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever,” he drawls, “but your shitty jersey is still shitty.”

The guy’s mouth falls open, and Marcus can feel the sour note of his indignation—the jagged spike of his outrage—as clearly as if it were his own. “Jesus fucking Christ,” the guy sputters, shaking his head like he’s got a nervous tic. “What are you so—what are you so angry about?”

Marcus raises his eyebrows. “Um,” he says slowly, because, really, what the shit, “I’m not angry. I’m confused.”

“No.” The guy frowns. “You’re definitely angry. I feel it, like—” He gestures vaguely to his chest and upper abdomen. “Right there. Like heartburn.”

Marcus’s nostrils flare, and he scratches viciously at the side of his neck to distract himself from the fact that this complete fucking stranger with boy band hair and, and Bambi eyes is apparently better at deciphering Marcus’s emotions than Marcus is.  

“Oh, hell,” the guy sighs, “now you're—embarrassed, don’t be like that, I didn’t mean to—hey, come on, where are you—where are you going? You can’t just—hey! Come back!”

Marcus does not come back.

And the ensuing wave of regret that pulses through Marcus’s sternum is lukewarm and salty and depressingly difficult to pinpoint the origins of.

It’s not his, he thinks stubbornly.


Marcus lasts two and a half days before the persistent invisible tugging at his gut becomes too annoying to bear.

He follows it.

He follows it to a bench in Riverside Park that’s near where the gross little fish and chips stand is, and the scent of old frying oil undercut by whatever the fuck is currently decomposing in the Hudson is—less nauseating than it arguably fucking should be, seriously, what the shit.


His soulmate, his soulmate, is sitting with his legs spread obnoxiously wide, wrists crossed and hands dangling in his lap, squinting intently up at the clouds like he’s waiting for them to tell him what to do next. It’s endearing. Maybe. Marcus’s stomach is in knots—a tangled mess of dread and unease and, abruptly, relief.

“Oh,” the guy says, quirking his lips into something that Marcus chooses to generously describe as a smile. The bruise on the guy’s jaw is a lurid, chalky looking violet, partially obscured by the auburn of his stubble. “You found me.”

“Of course I fucking found you,” Marcus says, dropping down next to him. Their knees brush, just for a moment, and it’s like—lightning, bright and fierce and sizzling, coiling around the base of his spine. “There’s been this—this buzzing, in the back of my head—”

“Yeah,” the guy interjects glumly. “I know. I would've—if you hadn’t. I would’ve tried to find you.” He pauses. “I missed you, I guess, which is—weird.”

Marcus scowls down at the sidewalk. There’s a crack in the cement, and it’s dirty, gritty with loose gravel around the edges, splintering off into a dozen hairline fractures before disappearing into the grass. He can feel his own surprise at the guy’s admission, and it’s so—uncomfortable, knowing that there’s nothing he can hide behind. Making himself smaller, holding himself still; they’re not antidotes for anything, not anymore, and this guy—his soulmate—he’s got a rabbit-fast heartbeat and an intimidatingly focused way of feeling things. Marcus wonders how he’s supposed to get used to that.  

“I’m Marcus,” he eventually offers, voice emerging gruffer than he’d have liked. “My name, I mean. It's—Marcus.”

The guy turns, slightly, to look over at Marcus. “Oliver. I’m Oliver.” He hesitates before he goes on, sounding nonplussed, “I still can’t believe you fucking hit me. Over a jersey.”

Marcus huffs. “It’s a really shitty jersey.”

Oliver grins, short and sweet and self-deprecating, before nudging at Marcus’s ribs with the point of his elbow. “I’ve, uh. I’ve been told I’ve got kind of a…bad habit of, of taking things too seriously.” His mouth twists, and the stabbing ache of some long-ago insult, or argument; it lances through the pads of Marcus’s fingers, stinging and sharp. “Obsessive. That’s what—I dunno. That’s what I’ve been told. I can be…obsessive. About—whatever.”

“Obsessive,” Marcus repeats, shaking out his hand. “That’s your—one big fault. Enthusiasm.”

Oliver shrugs, easy and casual, like it doesn’t matter, like Marcus can’t literally feel the crippling uncertainty—the tension, swampy and thick—weighing down his limbs. “Enthusiasm is…too nice of a word for it, I think.”

“Bullshit,” Marcus hears himself say, with absolutely zero fucking direction from his brain, or his conscience, or his admittedly flimsy sense of self-preservation. “Enthusiasm is the perfect fucking word for it.”

Oliver startles, slightly, eyes widening a fraction. There’s a coolly refreshing burst of—happiness, maybe; gratitude, definitely—coating the back of Marcus’s tongue. Citrus. Summer. Chlorine and coconut. It’s fucking nice.

“Oh. Um. Okay,” Oliver says, haltingly. “Thanks.”

A tentative silence descends between them on the bench. Marcus drums his fingers against the inseam of his jeans, jiggling his foot and glaring at a rotting spear of tree bark and swallowing around a metallic-tasting lump in his throat that he instinctively wants to label curiosity.  

“Sorry,” Marcus grunts, slouching forward. “About the—hitting you. I just—sorry. I was angry. I get angry.”

Oliver stares at him, bottom lip clutched between his teeth, and there’s a swirl of something taking root in his lungs, something chewy and rich, like caramel, so that every breath he takes in is like burnt brown sugar crystallizing against the roof of his mouth, but then there’s more, too, a champagne bubble pop of amusement, and—

“It’s alright,” Oliver says wryly. “I heard I was wearing a pretty shitty jersey.”

Marcus snorts, and then groans, and then laughs, almost despite himself, before confessing, as quietly as he can manage—  

“Yeah, I’m…not really sorry, anyway.”

Okay so everyone always has Jack proposing with this super elaborate gesture and I totally agree with that, but what if Bitty beats him to it? 

Like, Jack has this whole thing planned out. During a family skate, where Bitty is hanging out with everyone as Jack’s long-term bf, Single Ladies starts playing over the loud speakers and Bitty starts dancing with one of the kids on the ice and the lights dim and suddenly like a disco ball or something pops out and SMH all comes out on the ice and start dancing around Bitty and he’s laughing and when “all the single ladies put your hands up” plays Bitty throws his hand up and the music stops and Jack drops down on one knee in the circle formed by his friends and teammates and says “Bittle, if you’ll have me, this is the last time you’ll be a single lady. Will you marry me?” And Bitty is crying and Jack is grinning his stupid Jack grin and Shitty is bawling and Ransom and Holster are sniffing and holding hands and Bitty says yes and they kiss and the song starts again at “if he liked it he should have put a ring on it” and everything is perfect. 

At least, this is what Jack has planned. He told George and she had tears in her eyes and said that “of course she could make it happen” and the Falcs all think it’s great and all of their SMH friends set the date and plan on being in Providence come hell or high water. And it’s the night before and the thought of the ring in his hockey bag is making Jack want to puke and he and Bitty are curled up on the couch watching Cut Throat Kitchen and eating dinner.

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monika113079  asked:

Hey guys! Do you know any fic where Derek doesn't want to admit that he's in love with Stiles but he can't help loving him?Thanks in advance.

yes i do!!!

First Rule: Do No Harm by LandingStrutts (23/23 | 79,654 | R)

While they are both eye fucking each other, Dereks view of focus is replaced by someone else rushing toward him. It is Tom and he has a shitty evil grin on his face. “Derek. Where the hell you been man? You’re twenty minutes late. It’s freezing out here and we are waiting for someone to open up the building.” You would never have believed this is who sent a text with an exploding kitten.

Love At It’s Purest by AbsolutelyNot2801 (11/? | 22,459 | PG13)

Sometimes Derek does things that makes Stiles think his crush is not completely one-sided, like gentle touches, soothing words and embraces like the one they were in that morning. And then he goes and does something stupid like getting a stupid girlfriend like Jennifer. It’s not because of Jennifer at all really. She’s lovely. But Stiles can’t help the hint of jealousy when he sees the loving gazes and soft, shy smiles.

And this is his step-brother he’s talking about. His step-brother!


Or a fic in which Stiles and Derek can’t help falling in love with each other. But there’s a problem, they’re step brothers. A fic with angst, feels and a happy ending.

Surfboard by FiccinDylan, spellwovennight (10/10 | 30,672 | NC17)

Derek Hale is confident in 3 things: His station as beta in the McCall pack, his control over his wolf traits, and his ability and desire as a red blooded heterosexual were to carry on the Hale line.

Then one day Stiles Stilinski walks around the loft wearing a wig.

Denial by Angelwithwingsoffire (1/1 | 3,384 | PG13)

Five times Derek denied his feelings and the one time he actually admitted to them. 

mom's reaction to the bmp princes

me: ok so here are the princes. tell me what u think of them

mom: u need to stop bothering me with your questions.

mom: this is the third time I’m suspicious of u.

me: why?

mom: hes sneaky

mom: wipe that shitty grin off his face for me.

me: u don’t like him do u?

mom: no.

mom: he needs to brush his hair

mom: but its better than urs

me: thanks mammy

mom: he reminds me of that gay collage kid u know.

me: but hes black

mom: idc

me: ok

mom: hes a flower boy

mom: weak

me: so mean

mom: hes the weak one

mom: so girly

me: ur so harsh on him

mom: he looks like one of those kpop stars

mom: I feel like I can break him easily

mom: hes like casanova

mom: he looks loyal

mom: i like his hair

mom: kinda dorky

mom: tough boy here

mom: he looks like that boy u use to like

me: u will never mention him again.

mom: oh wow

mom: wow

mom: wow

mom: so good

me: u ok

mom: wow

mom: are u smitten?

mom: hes the beast

mom: hes my fav

mom: can i have him

 mom: works bc i’m not married

me: I swear in that moment we were all my mom

mom: wtf does that mean

me: this man, hes my favorite

mom: shut up I’m talking

me: ok

mom: he seems pissed off

mom: his hair is like a lion fur

me: mane?

mom: yea whatever

mom: hes ok

mom: weak but clever

mom: he looks like one of those secretive abusive husbands

me: wow ok

mom: he can be nice but hes cold

mom: he looks like a cat

me: he hates cats

mom: all abusive husbands do

me: o_o

*there was an awkward silence to this*

Alicia is P.O.T.U.S - Shitty garden furniture

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Just wanna say I’m bowled over by how many people liked this so quickly.  I hope I can keep your interest :D

- - - -

He skips his morning run and the regret adds itself to all the others he has piled up.

In the back of the town car he texts Kent.

Mom’s running for re-election

They’ve been in the White House for two years but Jack could swear it’s been longer.  The moment the race started he stopped feeling like Jack Zimmermann hockey prodigy and started feeling like Jack Zimmermann potential presidential candidate Alicia Zimmerann’s son.  He used to hate the former title but he hates the latter more now. Despite the ugly uphill slog it took to get here he knows his mother was excited to move into the White House but Jack hates it.  He feels like a bug under glass in that place.  Always overlooked and spied on.  The only place he feels safe now is at a beautiful red brick townhouse with white window accents and a green front door.

Shitty greets him (and his protection detail) on the font step wearing nothing but a pink kimono dressing gown and boxers.

“Jacko! You beautiful son of a bitch.”

“Hey Shits.” Jacks mouth stretches into its first genuine smile of the week.

Shitty looks over his shoulder at the agents waiting at the bottom of the steps and gives them a grin, “Coming in for a bowl?”

Ransom shakes his head with a polite smile, “No sir.”

“Well, it was worth a try.” Shitty shrugs like he doesn’t get the same answer every time he offers. “There’s Colombian coffee inside if you guys want it.  My superior half brought it back from her travels.”

Poindexter perks up and Jack gives them a nod.  When they enter the house the guys head to the kitchen leaving Jack to follow Shitty out to roof terrace.  At the garden table sits Shitty’s superior half.  Unlike her husband Larissa’s dressed but she is smoking a joint, which she lays carefully aside to stand and embrace Jack.

“Hey bud.”

He squeezes her small body to his.  “Hi Lardo.”

Shitty tells him to sit and picks up his bowl.  He offers it out mostly just to be polite but also on the off chance Jack will accept. Usually he passes, he doesn’t have a great track record with drugs but this time he reaches out and neither Lardo or Shitty hide their surprise.

“You okay buddy?” Lardo’s frown is all concern but she keeps her tone nonchalant to let Jack know that if he doesn’t want to talk about that’s fine.

Jack takes the lighter Shitty offers and holds the flames over the bowl.  When the water stops bubbling he announces on an exhale, “Mum’s running for another term.”

Lardo chokes on her smoke. Shitty doesn’t say anything.

“But you knew that.” Jack hands the bong back to him with a pointed stare.

“I didn’t actually.” Shitty replies.

Jack doesn’t believe him.

“I’m your lawyer.” he says sternly, “You cut my pay check and even if you didn’t you’re my best fucking friend.  You rank higher than your mother in my books.”

Despite his suspicion Jack feels the warmth that confident unflinching proclamation is meant to inspire. He and Shitty have been thick as thieves since college but there’s a stubborn part of Jack, the part that knows he’s not good enough, that worries despite all the evidence to the contrary Shitty’s friendship is just as tenuous as everything else in his life.

“I’m assuming your mother blindsided you with this?”

Ambushed more like. Jack nods.

Shitty gives him a sympathetic look and Jack remembers that Shitty knows him too well and knows exactly how he’s feeling right now.  “I wouldn’t do that to you man.  I promise if I’d known I would’ve given you a heads up.”

“I know.” Jack hangs his head.  “Sorry. I-I know you wouldn’t.”

“Come here you bastard.” Shitty tackles him and the combined weight of them both on the flimsy chair sends them crashing to the ground.

“Ow!” Jack laughs.

“Oh Jack Zimmermann you big strong animal you.  You’ve broken my furniture.” Shitty crows high pitched.

“Sir?”  Shitty and Jack crane their heads round to Poindexter standing in the doorway, a confused frown furrowing his burnt orange eyebrows.

Shitty waves them off, “Jesus Christ he’s fine! I’d never hurt my best friend who coincidentally happens to be a member of the first family.”

Poindexter looks chastened and annoyed about it.  “Sir?” he asks again directing the question to Jack.

Jack waves from his position beneath Shitty and between the broken garden chair.  “I’m fine Will.”

Poindexter nods but he still doesn’t move.  “Shits get off him before angry bird over there explodes.”

Will shoots a miffed look at Lardo.

“I should be able to maul my best friend in the privacy of my home.” He grumbles peeling himself off of Jack.  Jack rolls out of the broken chair and hops to his feet to catalogue the damage.  Two snapped legs and a bent back rest.

“Want me to replace that?” he asks.

Shitty puts his hands on his hips and stares down at the mess, “You pay me enough to be able to replace my own shitty garden furniture.  Lardo, light of my life, can this be art?”

Lardo takes a drag of her joint, “Have we still got pink glitter paint?”

“I think so.”

“Then yes.  I’ll put it in the garage.  Have you had lunch yet Jack?”


Lardo smiles and pushes her chair to stand.  “Let’s go to that little hole in the wall place.”

Jack follows them both into the kitchen where Ransom is sipping what must be his second cup of coffee completely unconcerned about the earlier ruckus.  “This stuff is so good.”

“There’s a bag for you if you want it.”

Ransom nods, “Thank you ma’am.”

“I’m not on duty yet you can call me by my name Justin.”

Ransom smiles but doesn’t do it.  He does take the coffee when she offers though.

“Want one Poindexter?”

“No ma’am.  Thank you.”

Lardo rolls her eyes. “Newbies.” She mutters.

- - - -

The Turkish restaurant is a cosy place big enough for six tables and staff to wander in between. It’s small but Jack feels anonymous tucked into a dark corner at a table with a light that hangs low enough to illuminate their food but not those eating it.  They all sit together, Jack opposite Shitty who’s next to Lardo. Ransom and Poindexter sit on either side of Jack and whilst it looks more natural this way Jack is still painfully aware he’s being flanked.

“This place is nice.” Jack picks up his menu.

Lardo watches a waitress walk by before replying, “Yeah it is.  Kosher too”

Jack’s impressed.

Shitty follows the line of her gaze and groans, “Are you going to slip her your number or make me eat here for two weeks before you do?”

Lardo gives him an innocent smile.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mmmmhmm.” He hums not fooled by her lies.

Shitty leans forward, “What about you Dexy? Will you take the bullet for me?”

Poindexter looks at Lardo who still has her holiday hat on so she doesn’t offer him any clues except a mischievous smirk into her water glass.

“You’re…not my priority…sir?” he replies haltingly.

Ransom coughs into his drink.  “Nice one.” He mutters sarcastically.  Poindexter doesn’t scowl at him but it’s a near thing.

“Not a priority?” Shitty whispers outraged.  “Not a priority? Light of my life do you hear this? As your husband do I not have umbrella protection?”

“I’m literally just the coordinator.” She rolls her eyes amused.


Jack shrugs, “My legs are insured for five million dollars.”

“I thought that was your ass.” Shitty retorts.

“That’s why I have two bodyguards.” Jack grins when Shitty flips him the bird.

“I’m saddened William.” He pouts, “I will be writing a letter of complaint.”

Will shoots Ransom a concerned look before he can stop himself.  “Stop messing with the new guy.” He answers in a far friendlier tone than one would typically expect from an agent on duty, but then that always was Shitty’s great talent; getting under peoples skin and growing on them like a fungus you couldn’t help but be fond of.

Lardo manages to behave herself when the waitress comes back to take their order.  Jack manages to persuade Poindexter to eat with them claiming it’ll look weirder if he doesn’t.  Ransom has no such qualms.

Justin Oluransi (“Just call me Ransom sir.”) has been Jack’s bodyguard since his rookie year.  Jack feels an affinity with Ransom in a way he didn’t with the last agents he was paired with, maybe it’s because they’ve both just finished their rookie years, or maybe it’s because now that Aldeen is gone Ransom’s relaxed and allowed Jack to think that perhaps they could be friends as well as work together.  Aldeen preferred to be professional at all times and Jack appreciated that but it feels better to know that someone is looking out for you not just because they’re being paid to do so.

So it’s Ransom that gets Poindexter to join in even if he has to sell it by telling him that he can’t do his job effectively if people know he’s there all the time.

“If people can see me then they are dissuaded from trying anything.” Will said, politely but insistently.

Ransom gave him a long look. “Just order some food.  You don’t have to eat it.”

Poindexter ordered a kebab. And he eats it.

There’s a trill from Shitty’s jacket pocket.  “Excuse me.” He apologises withdrawing the phone.  A minute later he chuckles to himself.

“Johnson isn’t still sending you meta memes is he?” Lardo asks around a mouthful of olive.

“Nah it’s Nurse.” He looks at Jack, “Apparently your new social media manager is a hottie.”

Jack makes an aborted sound of disagreement, “She’s not mine.”

“Woah way to assume.” Shitty whistles, “The guys a dude.” He shares a meaningful look with Poindexter, “And they say bi erasure isn’t a thing.”

Poindexter frowns at him like he’s missed something.

“And Nurse said, and I quote; “Jack’s new social media guru is a southern fried hottie”.”

“Nice.” Ransom chuckles.

“I’m not getting social media.” Jack is very firm on this.

“Famous last words.” Lardo smirks.

Jack gives her a dry look and pushes the bowl of olives towards her, “Have some more Olives Lards.”

“Face it Jacky,” Shitty slides his phone back into his pocket, “Georgia’s gonna drag you into the digital age.” He grins wickedly, “Kicking and screaming if she has to.”

My Hero | John Murphy


can i request a murphy imagine where like you’ve been overworking lately bc someone made a comment about how you slack off and it rubbed you the wrong way, and he notices and tries to tell you to take it easy, but you don’t listen and end up fainting and he gets really worried and stuff (even though you two dont know each other that well)?? i love your writing btw!!

(im really sorry, I kind of strayed away from the original request without realizing it! If you want me to write it differently I can always do another one :))

Originally posted by knightofthefandom

You winced as you walked out of your tent, still not used to the pain in your leg. It had been almost a week since your hunting accident, but the injury still lingered. Clarke told you a long healing process was normal, so you weren’t too worried- just annoyed that you couldn’t do much for the time being.

You walked towards the center of camp, unsure of what you’d be doing today. You had always been on hunting duty before, but since you’d gotten hurt you’d been on a new job nearly everyday. As you passed a group of people, you happened to hear your name, causing you to stop and take a few steps back, obscuring yourself from their view.

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It’s A Small World After All

Valentine’s Day Special #1

Pair : Jensen Ackles x Reader

7. You’ve never had a valentine in your life but your best friend wants to break that curse. She forces you out to a club/party and tries to find you a guy to spend the rest of the night with. But she fails when almost every guy there is either taken or a total fuck boy. Until she bumps into an old friend. Small world.

Requested by anon. 

Warning : Language. 

Word Count : 1,913

“Come on, smile!” Aria, your best friend nudged your side. “At least pretend like you’re having a good time.”

You watched as she took a swig of her drink, eyes glancing around the crowded bar.

“I-I just want to go home.” You muttered. Gently playing with your straw, feeling as though the night was nothing more than a waste.

“Look, we can go home after you meet your soul mate.” She smirked. “Or a one night stand mate.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on the stool.

“Seriously Aria, it’s just not gonna happen.”

“With that attitude it won’t.” Aria leaned on her elbows and sighed. “Look, I made you a promise, and I don’t want to let you down.”

“Hey, you won’t ever let me down.” You stated. “But let’s face it, we aren’t-”

You were interrupted with cold drink running down your leg that was spilt from the dunk guy beside you.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” He slurred his words.

Taking the only napkin you had, you began to dab the liquid, growing annoyed.

The stranger was able to get a better look at you, and with all the alcohol in his system, he felt confident.

“Or maybe I’m not sorry.” He began. “Shit, I shoulda spilled my drink on you a long time ago. Damn you’re so fine.”

You only flashed a soft smirk, still not responding.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked, hovering over you. “Do you maybe wanna get out of here? Have some fun.”

Clenching your jaw tightly, you glanced at aria, who knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Hey buddy, how about you stop hitting on MY girlfriend and go find someone who is too drunk to care about your ten dollar haircut.” She snarled, with a shitty grin plastered on to her face.

But of course, the guy was too out of it, he only focused on the word girlfriend.

“Wait, you two are lesbians?” He asked.

“Yes, so you’re definitely not needed here.” Aria continued.

The stranger tapped his friends shoulder, catching his attention. “Dude, these girls are fucking lesbians! That’s so fucking hot!”

You let out a sigh, growing impatient with the drunk. It was obvious you weren’t interested, but he didn’t care.

“How about you two make out, prove your lesbians.” The friend smiled.

Aria propped up to her feet, her shitty grin not once faltering. “Or how about you two make out. Give us one hell of a show.”

“We aren’t gay!” The friend cackled.

“Oh come on! It’s 2017! You don’t have to be gay to kiss someone of the same gender.” She exclaimed. “Come on, just stick your tongue in his mouth, it’d be so hot.”

The guys slowly took a step back, shaking their heads. “We have to meet up with the rest of our party.”

“Aw okay, well have fun!”

The boys turned without another word, obviously feeling uncomfortable of the situation.

You however couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Fuck, they were annoying.” Aria exhaled.

“Yeah, this bar seems to be filled with those kind of guys.” You stated.

Aria let out a long sigh, feeling defeated. “Fine, we can go.”

Your eyes lit up, the moment you have been waiting for. To finally go home.


“Yeah. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here. And these dip shits aren’t worth shit, so let’s just go.”

You pulled her in for a quick hug, flashing a soft smile. “Thanks for trying though.” You said.

The both of you started for the door, pushing passed the crowd, and forcing your way through.

But as you we’re just about to open the door, the door swung open and immediately you ran straight into broad shoulders. Almost knocking you off your feet.

“Shit!” You yelped, trying to stable yourself.

Suddenly, you felt an arm loop around your waist, keeping you steady.

“What the hell man! Watch where you’re going!” Aria exclaimed. “You okay?”

Before you could respond, the stranger apologized profusely, looking over you to make sure he hadn’t hurt you.

As your eyes met, you felt your breath hitch to the back of your throat. He was beautiful beyond belief. With taunting emerald green eyes, and lips so full, you could only imagine just how soft they were.

“I-I’m fine.” You whispered.

Aria glanced at the stranger, and immediately her anger subsided.
“Jensen?!” She said with her brows raised.

The stranger looked up to your friend, a smile growing by the second. “Aria!” His arm left your waist, and he pulled your best friend into him. Giving her a quick hug.

“Holy shit! Long time no see.” She chuckled. “You look good!”

Jensen shrugged, “aw thanks.” He said. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since Mackenzie’s eighteenth birthday party!”

“I’ve been great! Just been working, what about you?! I see the show has been doing great.”

You stood there awkwardly, as they went back and forth. Your eyes couldn’t help but glance at Jensen. There was just something about him that made so captivated.

“Shit, this is my best friend Y/N.” Aria said, interrupting your thoughts. “Y/N this is an old friend, Jensen Ackles.”

You slipped your hand into his, and immediately you felt chills cover you.

“Nice to meet you.” He smiled, his voice creating your legs to shake.

“You too.” You forced out.

His gaze held yours for what seemed like forever. Almost giving the illusion that you two were alone.

That was until someone cleared their throat. Breaking the trance.

“Crap, this is my brother Jared and his wife Gen.” he muttered.

“Hi, nice to meet y'all.” Jared smirked.

“You girls want to join us?” Jensen asked. “I mean, it’d be nice to catch up and stuff.”

Aria glanced at you, then back to her old friend. “Actually we were just about to-”

“We’d love to.” You blurted out. “I-I mean the nights still young.”

Aria chuckled to herself, shrugging her shoulders.

“Let’s drink!” She exclaimed.


(A couple hours later)

A few drinks in, and you could feel your lips start to tingle and your mind begin to haze.

You sat there, listening to some great stories from the set, and getting to know the boys and Gen, who you absolutely adored. She was completely amazing with her quirkiness and kind heart.

Aria seemed to have a great time as well, catching up with Jensen and cracking jokes with Jared.

But even with all the fun and chaos, you caught yourself glancing at Jensen, and even slightly flirting with cute little remarks and facial expressions. It was hard to contain it.

Jensen felt himself slowly gravitate toward you. The way you smiled, and laughed and talked, drew him in and he didn’t want it to end.

“Come on, let’s go dance!” Gen pulled at Jared’s arm.

He only chuckled and did as he was told. Following his wife to the dance floor, leaving you with Jensen and Aria.

“So before we bumped into each other-” Jensen teased. “What were you girls doing?”

“Actually, we were here to find a valentine for Y/N!” Aria blurted.

You shot her a glare, pursing your lips. But she wasn’t paying attention.

“She has never had a valentine in her life.” She continued.

“Okay, thanks for making me look pathetic!” You forced a chuckle.

Jensen flashed a smile, seeing you grow embarrassed was somehow adorable to him.

“Well, I’ll be your valentine.” He said, still holding his gaze on you.

For a second, you froze. Until aria nudged your side.

“Y-You don’t have to.” You exhaled. “Don’t want you to feel obligated or anything.”

Jensen let out a laugh, as he began to shake his head. “Trust me, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have suggested it.” He winked.

“Well shit! Now that she has a valentine, I need to go find one.” Aria cackled. “I’ll be back.”

Before you could even think of a response, she was gone. Now you were alone, with Jensen.

“Can I just say, you’re really beautiful.” Jensen said with a soft smile playing on his lips.

You looked up at him, feeling your stomach flutter from the compliment. He was buzzed, obviously it was just the alcohol, right? Whatever it was, you didn’t want to ruin it.

Who knows when you’ll ever see him again.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You stated.

Something overcame you. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way he made you feel. But somehow, you felt a spark ignite in you and suddenly, you leaned over the table and crashed your lips to his.

His hands tangled into your hair, pulling you in closer. Tasting you with his tongue.

All at once, everything around you seemed to fade into the distance.

It was perfect, like a scene from a movie. You didn’t want it to stop. And maybe you wouldn’t have, if it weren’t for Jared.

“Okay! Get a room you too!” He exclaimed.

You jumped back into your seat, feeling the heat radiate off you as you began to grow with embarrassment.

Jensen couldn’t help but giggle behind his hand. Most likely feeing the same thing you did.

“I mean, that was hot but not sure how other people feel about it.” Jared continued to tease.

“Shut up.” Jensen cackled.

“Usually, id take the girl out to dinner first.” Jared shrugged. “Just saying.”

Jensen glanced at you, his cheeks aching from smiling so much. “Want to dance?” He asked, ignoring his best friends comments.

“Sure.” You smiled.

His hand slipped into yours, and lead you to the dance floor. His body pressed against yours as your bodies began to sway with the music.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered.

“It’s okay!” You chuckled. “Jareds funny.”

Jensen shrugged, “eh, don’t tell him that. Or he’ll never stop.”

As the song went on, you were both lost in each other. The way his body felt against yours felt like you had finally found the missing puzzle piece. It fit perfectly.

“Sorry for kissing you.” You exhaled.

He scrunched his brows together, looking into your eyes. “Don’t be sorry for that.” He said. “Trust me, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

There it was again, that same spark you had back at the table.

“So I was thinking-” Jensen drawled out.

“Oh yeah? Don’t think too hard, don’t want to hurt yourself.” You teased.

Jensen chuckled to himself. “So I was thinking maybe I can take you out tomorrow?”

You swallowed hard, looking for bluff.

“Like on a date.” He continued. “I know we just met, but for some reason, I want to keep getting to know you.”

Your stomach was fluttering so much, it was begging to ache a bit. But you held on to every word, locking your gaze on his face.

“There’s just something about you Y/N. And I really don’t want to go on with my life thinking what if.” He stated. “So, would you like to go out tomorrow?”

Without a word, you propped up on to your toes and gently pecked his lips.

As you slowly pulled away, Jensen couldn’t help but smirk. Fluttering his eyes open.

“So is that a yes?” He chuckled.

Giggling along with him, you nodded. “Yes, I’d love too.”

The song continued playing in the background, making Jensen pull you in closer. His scent being the only thing you breathed in.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispered.

Every you Every Me. (1/?)

Pairing : Tony!Father x Reader!Daughter x Steve x Avengers 

Warnings: nightmares(?

Summary: You are Tony’s daughter, everything was normal until you recall your past in your nightmares. 

A/N : Sorry about the grammar and also because I didn’t submit anything in like months 💀, but anyway I wanted to try something new and write a serie… so well here I go. Also, if someone out there can help me with the grammar it will be awesome. Oh and italics are dreams/ nightmares. 

Chapter 2.1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9

Word Count: 2231

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

“Okay but listen to me this time” said Sam standing up with the cool beer in his hand and a card with the name “Bucky Barnes” in his forehead.

Everyone was laughing, we were in the main room with a lot of junk food, beers and music. All of us was trying to guess the persons, place or job in our foreheads, the hilarious thing was that, Tony changed the traditional game to things that everyone has lived before, like places or names of missions, the quotes of some of us, our names, the places we came from, everything about us.

This game started in a Sunday in the middle of Winter, when no one wanted to leave the Tower, but also everyone wanted to do something, so Stark came with the game. From that moment the Tower was full of joy, Stark can be a dick, but sometimes he is really funny and can bring all the Avengers to have a family day.

Everyone laughed with the random descriptions for different avengers, the first one to guess her card was actually Wanda with the beautiful question ‘Do I Hulk in the bedroom?’ winning in less than 10 seconds. Then Natasha trying to guess Loki asking, ‘am I adopted?’ making Thor laugh even harder. That was the mechanic of the game so everyone has enjoying it. 

All the team had already guess from 5 to 8 cards except for Sam, he was the only one that hadn’t guess his card for an hour now, so again it was his time to guess, and everyone was losing their faith in him.

“Okay, ‘am not a Prince, pirate, doctor, cowboy, actor, singer, president, writer, artist, playboy, scientific, God, russian, kid, robot, millionaire, dad… so okay, I may be an asshole? ” Sam asked with all the seriousness in his voice.

All started to laugh at this once again, even Bucky, in the background everyone heard Sam screamed “I remind you all… it’s my time the one’s running out!”. Truth be told, everyone at this point was a little tipsy so every single thing was funny and seeing how Sam was losing his shit, turned everything better.

“Depends on the perspective” said T’Challa who was by your left side, trying not to keep laughing.

At this Bucky glared at T’Challa and said “Hey!” with his ‘pain’ voice, and once again, everyone laughed.

“That’s everything I need it! I’m fucking Barnes!” screamed Sam throwing his hands into the air, spilling beer on the floor.

“I’m not going to tell you again Sam! Don’t ruin my floor!” Tony said glaring at Sam, this was like the tenth time that Sam throws something on the floor. 

“'kay man, just relax. I’m finally free!” said Sam sitting next to you.

“Free? It’s the first card you guess… let me put another one,” said Wanda with a chuckle.

“Another? What?, no, there’s no way I’m doing this again” said Sam crossing his arms in front of his chest and glaring at everyone. It wasn’t a minute after that Wanda put the card on his forehead with the quote “Bird Brain” (Bucky’s quote). And once again, everyone chuckled, earning a confused ‘What?’ from Sam.

The next one was you, so you stand up and cleared your throat.

“Now Y/N , ready?… NOW” Bruce said starting the time for you.

“Okay so  ‘am not an assassin, nor an avenger… it’s my job something common on the city?” you asked, everyone answered with a “yes” so you keep going. “Okay, am I a police?” and they told you “no”, you keep going with jobs and jobs until they said yes, time was running out and finally you said “Am I Lee? Our postman?” you finally said.

“YES!” Wanda screamed at you with a full smile and joy in her eyes.

At this Sam looked at you, while you took a seat and Wanda put another card on your forehead, with the word ‘Fondue’, again, everyone laugh and Steve turned red as a tomato. 

“How the hell all of you do that, when you received this kind of training?” asked Sam more confused.

“It’s hard for you, because you have a bird brain” said Bucky taking a sip of his beer with a shitty grin.

“That’s it you fucking cyborg!” screamed Sam trying to attack Bucky, but he
accidentally threw his beer to the floor.

“Sam! The fuck I just told you!” Tony said one more in his ‘dad voice’

The game kept going until it was late, pretty late. So everyone started to call the night and go to sleep. You were going to leave with Steve too until Tony called you. 

“Y/N, wait don’t go. Please” he said with his ‘you don’t have other option’ voice. 

Steve looked at you a little confused, you gave him a soft smile and he gave your temple a quick kiss before leaving you alone with him. When you two were alone you turned to see Tony. 

“I thought I’ll never see the day when Tony Stark will say ‘please’ ” you said with a chuckle, but he didn’t reply, so now, you were a little scared.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” you told him with seriousness.

“What have you out of your mind lately?, and give me a hand here” he told you while he was picking the empty beer bottles.

“What do you mean?” you asked him while you started collecting the dirty plates.

“Y/N I know you, don’t lie to me. I saw you, you weren’t you hours ago, so tell me, what’s bothering you?” he said now looking at you.

And for some reason you felt tiny, like he was a giant and you an ant, like a kid that did something wrong, but also, you really wanted to tell Tony everything that was not okay, you two had this big bound about trust, of course because he was your father, you couldn’t hide anything even if you wanted, so here you are, taking a big breath and thinking about how to tell Tony.

“Nightmares, again.” You told him with pain in your voice, even if you didn’t want the words to leave that way, it was true that those dreams were a really a pain in the ass. You didn’t look at Tony, instead you were looking at the empty dishes in your hands.

“Y/N, this has gotten too far and you know it, you stopped going to the sessions-” Tony started talking serious but you cut him.

“Because he wanted to know what I saw in those nightmares!” you said a little annoyed, this because you don’t trust easily on people, so you didn’t want anyone to know about this.

“Why? What do you see in those nightmares?” Tony asked you a little worried now.

Your mind started to fight between telling Tony or not. You just wanted to go to bed after all, you didn’t want to talk about it, and as painful as it sounds, you didn’t tell Tony, because you were afraid.

“I-I’m not ready to talk about it” you said with a sad and a low voice.

You walked to the kitchen to leave the dirty dishes, leaving Tony calling your name in the background. You hated it to leave Tony that way, but you hoped he’ll understand that you weren’t ready to talk to him. You went to your now shared room with Steve and you found him waiting for you in the bed. When he heard the door he walked to you. 

“Everything alright?” he asked you, a little concerned. 

“Yes, just dad-daughter issues, you know?” you told him with a little smile. 

“I hate to tell you this, but I can read you dear, what’s wrong?, are this about the nightmares?” he asked you. 

In that moment you felt so sad not even knowing why, but you felt like if you were going to break in any moment. You closed your eyes and nodded. 

“Hey, I got you. Everything’s gonna be okay” he held you tight against his chest. 

Your stabilized by hearing his heart. When you were ready you looked up to him to said ‘thanks’ and both of you went to bed.

You couldn’t move, nor even breathe well, you were just a crying and pleading mess like your whole body. Escape, that was the only thing in your mind, you started to scream until you felt your lungs burning. But no one came.

You looked down, you where tied up to a metal stretcher, you shake your hands until blood was running from the wounds, this make you cry even harder. You couldn’t even remove the tears from your eyes.

You stopped moving when you heard heavy footsteps, and you prayed for you hero to come, but instead a group of man dressed all in black came with syringes and two suitcases. Immediately you started to scream and shake your body again, but none of the man cared about. You plead for your life, but no one listened, you were scared, so scared.

Your eyes drifted to the suitcase when you heard the sound, your eyes looked at the blue fluid, and you screamed once more, that didn’t looked well, instead it looked like Death and pain. This time, two men grabbed your head roughly to put something inside your mouth, that thing didn’t let you scream anymore, still you heard and saw everything.

“Look, I-I don’t know if she’s going to endure the process, she’s too young, sir” the man with grey hair said.

“Dr. Shneider, I understand it’s the first time you do this kind of things, but listen carefully. This, is the fifth time we do this with kids, unfortunately just a few survive, and we care?, no. This will only gave us the strong ones, so start the process, and try no to waste this material, it’s invaluable, understand?” the tall man with blonde hair said.

“Sir. I don’t even know how to start this” the other man said.

The blonde man grabbed the old scientist by his throat in a second making him scream, he pinned into the wall and he spoke once more.

“Make the process, don’t waste all the formula, if she dies we burn the body, understand? ” the blonde man said with a firm voice.

The old scientist nodded and he fell to the floor in no time.

“Oh, and for you knowledge, the formula will make her a mutant, so don’t be surprised if you see something weird on her” said the blonde man before leaving the room with his guards behind him.

The scientist stood up, he put everything of the right place, the formula on the big syringes, and walked in front of you. You started to shake once again to escape, but the man placed a hand on your chest.

“Stop moving girl, it’ll be worst” he said with a guilty voice.

You begged with tears running down your face. The scientist, looked at you and then to the big mirror of the wall, he muttered a 'sorry’ before putting multiples cables and artifacts on you vital signs. He walked away to a big computer, you heard a rough voice through the speakers making a countdown, when the voice reached the one, your eyes looked at blue fluid, you heard the sounds of multiple machines and how everything was coming to life, in matter of seconds the liquid started to go down.

And then you whole body seemed to be burning inside, your back arched roughly, your hands, feets and head were shaking, you felt the fluid running through your veins, blood came out of your eyes and nose. Your body was convulsing and your eyes turned white, you were sweating, crying, screaming, you kept listening to the machines but you couldn’t see anything you could only feel the pain, you though your body was going to explode in any minute and then -

“Y/N!, Wake up!” you heard a familiar voice and your eyes opened instantly.

“Y/N you’re okay, I got you, you’re safe, i’m here” you heard the voice again but your mind couldn’t place a name on the face.

You were crying, sweating, shaking and it was hard for you to breathe. Again, you wanted to escape and this man place both of this hands on your shoulders, he repeated the words, but you didn’t even recognize the name which he was calling you . It took you minutes to figure out where you where. Your eyes scanned the place like three times, the man in front of you, until you realised it was Steve.

“Steve?” you asked afraid that he wasn’t real.

“Yeah, it’s me” he answered you, more relaxed.

“Oh my god Steve, it- they-” you couldn’t even explain yourself you were a crying mess.

“Hey, Y/N, come on” Steve make you sit up and he held you against his chest. “Breathe with me, one… two…one…two” he repeated until your sobbing stopped.

“Better?” he asked you when he felt that you were now relaxed.

You nodded and held him tight in fear he was going to dissapear in any minute.

“Now… I’ll bring you some water, okay?” he said letting you go, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t leave please” you begged him and he stayed with you.

“Fine, well, let’s try to sleep again, okay?, I’m not going anywhere, but, tomorrow, you’ll tell Tony, okay?” Steve asked you, of course he was concerned, this kind of nightmares felt too real to be just part of your imagination, he knew they had a deeper meaning.

You nodded and he tooked you again in his arms. Both of you hoped to avoid the nightmares for the rest of the night.

Skin Deep [M]

Taehyung x Reader
Fluff/SMUT/Slight Angst
Word Count: 5,800 
{Request Filled}


Blank whiteness glared up at me through the blank page of unanswered math equations that reflected my empty mind with each second. Math never failed to show me just how stupid I thought I was. The numbers just wouldn’t come easily, scrambling together and switching places as I tried over and over to understand them. Thankfully I had a distraction.

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Told You So

“-and then she showed me the article that outlined-”

“Woah, Jacky boy,” Shitty interrupted, staring owlishly at Jack’s sudden rambling session about one Camilla Collins. “This is the most I’ve heard you speak about something, or someone, that wasn’t hockey or history related.”

Jack frowned.

“Well, this is history related. She’s in my Economic History of Work and Family course. We’re working on a project which details-”

“No,” Shitty barged in before Jack could continue his spiel. “This is different. Usually you focus on the history itself but you’re focusing mainly on her.”

Jack’s eyes bore into Shitty’s for a few seconds, the rustling of Jack’s bedroom curtains the only sound. Jack swivelled his chair around and focused on the open textbook on his desk.

“If you’re not going to listen to what I’m telling you then I can’t help you.”

Shitty sighed, flopped back onto Jack’s bed for a brief moment, before springing back up.

“Okay, just, hear me out - describe Camilla to me.”

Jack’s eyes squeezed tight before reopening.

“Fine. She’s smaller than me. Five foot six maybe? Slender. Athletic. Blonde hair.Green eyes.”

Shitty scrunched up his face.

“That’s it?”

Jack threw his hands up in exasperation and turned to face Shitty.

“What do you want me to say, Shits? That I like the way her hair curls behind her eyes like some romance novel? Or that I like the curve of her waist and want to put my hand there all the time? Or that her laugh makes me smile even when I’m across the quad?”

“Yes!” Shitty paused. “Wait. Is all that true?”

Jack shrugged.

“I guess. I never really thought about it until now.”

Shitty moved before there were any protests and wrapped Jack in a crushing hug.

“I’m so proud of you man.”

“Do I really talk about her that much?” Jack whispered and Shitty shoved his face into Jack’s neck.

“Yes but that’s okay.” Shitty pulled back, blinding grin on his face. “So, how are you going to ask her out?”

Jack just groaned while shoving Shitty away.

Last Night Out

Fandom: Undertale

Ship: Edgepuff (Fell!Pap X Classic!Pap)

Tags: Pregnancy, Married Life, Lots of kissing and hugging and fluff

a little commission for @unflavoredskelly! A late-term Papyrus and his husband Edge know that with their bundle of joy comes a limit to their free time, so they plan one last night out before the baby arrives. Thanks for commissioning me, this was fun to write <3

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