sighs heavily and dramatically


gif is not mine

Title: Eeesh

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Word Count: 691

Warnings: angst and fluff

A/N: This was requested by @shititskatelyn! I apologize for the long wait on your request! However I hope you all enjoy this on our lovely Satan Sunday! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much!

Dean and Sam had been on your case for weeks now.  You were trying to research for their next case.  It had always been your job to research for the cases.  You thought you would be able to give them answers quickly.  Especially at the rate you were reading the books in the library.

Lucifer sauntered into the library, spotting you at one of the tables.  He leaned his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands.  “You humans have so little time on this planet,” Lucifer muttered.  “Yet you’re spending your days here in the library, reading books.”

“Someone has to,” you replied plainly.

Lucifer sighed heavily, dramatically walking around the table.  He sat down next to you, watching you read.  “Could you be anymore boring,” Lucifer questioned, letting his arm fall against the wooden surface of the table.  “You should know what it is [Y/N].”

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Originally posted by vaniwin

Roman Reigns One Shot - First Impressions

  • Based on this prompt: “You can touch me but I know you won’t.” @moxxetti

I looked around the arena wondering how I had gotten suckered into coming. It was filling up fast. Lila had called at the last minute, her cousin had bailed on her and she had no one to go with. She had begged. She knew a few of the wrestlers and had scored ringside seats but the only problem was that I knew nothing about wrestling or the WWE, nor did I care to. Yet here I was, sitting in probably the best seats in the house about to watch something I had zero interest in. I closed my eyes and sighed heavily.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Lila elbowed me in the ribs. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah,” my eyes narrowed, “we’ll see.” I picked up my beer and took a long sip, hoping there was enough alcohol in this place to get me through the next three hours.

“It’s a house show, they’re always so much better than the live tapings – no script, no PG rating to worry about. Just a bunch of people out there having fun and entertaining us.” Lila shouted over to me as a blast of music and pyro went off.

“What the fuck is a ‘house show’?” I shouted back.

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Originally posted by lovershub

Niall Horan One Shot - First Impressions

I looked around the arena wondering how I had gotten suckered into coming. It was filling up fast. Lila had called at the last minute, her cousin had bailed on her and she had no one to go with. She had begged. She knew a few of the guys in the band and had scored front row seats but the only problem was that I knew nothing about this band, nor did I care to. Yet here I was, sitting in probably the best seats in the house about to watch something I had zero interest in. I closed my eyes and sighed heavily.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Lila elbowed me in the ribs. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah,” my eyes narrowed, “we’ll see.” I picked up my beer and took a long sip, hoping there was enough alcohol in this place to get me through the next two(ish) hours.

“It’s a reunion concert, these guys have been on break for years. Now they’re just out here having fun and entertaining us.” Lila shouted over to me as the beginning notes of the first song blared through the speakers.

“What the fuck is a ‘reunion concert’?” I shouted back.

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anonymous asked:

The idea of a grumpy harry.. he srunches his nose and stuff. 😫

Pouts and folds his arms over his chest. Taps his fingers every so often against the table or against the arm of the chair or pats his palm against his thigh or against his belly. Slouches down on the sofa or scuffs his feet when he walks around the house. Sighing heavily and drawing out it dramatically. Eyebrows furrowed with a tense jaw. Eyes focused on one thing, and one thing only - usually the TV or staring out the window or sometimes just at his cup of tea or coffee. Sniffing every so often and scrunching his nose. Staring at you and hoping you’ll get the hint that he’s grumpy and just needs a cuddle.

“Why are you starin’ at me like I’m your worst enemy?”


“What’s the matter, Grumpy?”

“M’not grumpy.”

“I think you are,” you’d sing out.

“Do you not care then? V’been starin’ at yeh for a while now. Hoping yeh’d get the hint.”

“What hint?”

He’d huff out heavily, “m’grumpy, okay? I just want to cuddle. Will you come here?” xx

Just a Smile - A Zelink Short Fic

SUMMARY: In Hyrule palace, there was one rule left over from the time of her great-grandfather, one that most certainly could not be broken: the guards on duty were not allowed to laugh.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three coming soon!

But that never stopped Princess Zelda from trying.

Zelink AU where Zelda is a princess and Link is a guard who she’s trying to make laugh but can’t seem to crack. Part one of a larger fic of similar short bursts. Not attached to any particular game. Fluff af. Have fun, kids!

Writing after the cut! Enjoy!

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What We Created (4)

Sebastian Stan x Reader (pregnancy series)

Summary: A one nightstand with the one and only Sebastian Stan changes your life and his forever 

Word count: 1,549

Warning: fluff, confusion

A/N: Sorry this took so long. If you didn’t know i lost two of my cousins on December 23rd and since then i haven’t been able to  write like i used to. I needed some time to grieve. Hope y'all understand and still love this story :) thank you for 500 followers. That’s so awesome!

What We Created Materlist

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Giggly Princess - Sam x Reader

 A/N: This is my entry for Juju’s fluffy birthday challenge! Prompt is in bold :) @jared-padaloveme

“Mmghhh, no don’t leave me here! Save me please” you murmur, a note of panic in your raspy voice.

Sam raises his head from the pillow, amused, and looks over at your sleeping body. Your cotton tee shirt is bunched up on your stomach, and your legs are splayed across the bed. The covers were discarded long ago before the speaking began.

“Sam, save me from the dragon please! You have to help me, I’m the princess, and I have to take care of my people!” You whimper, slowly reaching a louder volume. Sam is sitting up now, staring down upon you with interest and curiosity.

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headcanon where all of holsters sisters know immediately that holster likes ransom when ransom comes to visit and they chirp him. constantly. like. its lowkey vicious?? he is attacked by a 15 yr old girl on the daily?? like she’ll text him in the morning,
“hows justin?”
“oh, i bet he is. does he know youre in love with him yet?”
“go to school what the fuck” and then ransom walks up next to him and glances at the phone sometimes and hes like ??? and holsters like NOTHING IS HAPPENING.

and then his other sisters are more subtle abt it, his older sister collette lives in boston & sometimes she drops by and they have coffee and talk and sometimes shes just like.
“so. anything interestin g happening in ur romantic life?”
/cue holster sighing heavily and dramatically
“no its p stagnant rn”
“r u sure i mean… justins snapchats say different”
“u cant hide shit from me u punk” and holster is just like ??
“i see u…. i see that mixtape u made for him u transparent ass bitch”
but. it true. he cant hide. he a obvious hoe.

but rlly, its mary whos like real savage bc. she wont bring it up ever. she lulls him into a false sense of security. he is caught off guard when like one day on the phone shes just like.
“so grace tells me u had a gf for a day & then u broke up”
“yeah her names april”
“cute. how u think u only like girls”
“…i like girls”
“u also like a 6ft tall ‘girl’ named justin”
“not you too”
“when it stops being true then itll stop” and then hes just like
“IM NOT GAY FOR RANSOM” and like ofc ransoms in the room and u kno what happens next brah. some serious bromantic comedy shit. #graceknewfirst

Special Friends: Chapter 5

Submitted by: Panicattackkisses

Description:  When Stiles’ phone buzzed and lit up with the image of Lydia with two chopsticks in her mouth, he answered immediately.
“I thought I told you you can’t keep calling me up for meaningless, mind blowing sex, Lydia”.

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff, Romance

All Chapters

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Chapter Four

Another 3 days and she hadn’t seen him. She loved Junior, his voice was divine, but these days drove her crazy. 

She was just getting home from work when he called her making kissing noises into the phone. “I’m assuming you’re alone?” She held the phone between her shoulder and ear, taking off her shoes off.

 "Yes, but even if I wasn’t. What are you doing?“ She heard him rummaging through a cabinet.

 "I just got home, I’m tired. Are you coming to see me tonight?” She could use some Junior therapy to lull her into a deep sleep. 

 "I can’t. I’m just taking a break right now from practice baby. We might be practicing half the night.“ He sighed heavily into the phone. 

 "I wish I could watch.” She opened the fridge grabbing a water bottle. 

 "You’d be bored, trust me.“ He burped into the phone, laughing when she called him disgusting. 

 "Let’s have breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s Saturday, you aren’t working." 

"Ok, where?” He told her where, and she wrote down the address on a note pad. 

 They talked for awhile, saying their I love yous before hanging up the phone. He sent her a picture of him smiling, and then one of him blowing her a kiss. She smiled looking at his face going into the bathroom. Deciding to send him a few risky pics before her shower. She snapped a few pictures of her in her bra, then peeking behind the shower curtain. Setting the phone down she took a shower, and when she got out the few texts she received were reprimands for making him not being able to concentrate on practicing. 

 The next morning, she dressed in a button up tank and high waisted shorts. A long sleeve kimono wrap and sandals finished the deal. Looking at herself one more time, she checked her hair and makeup making her way to the address he gave her. The diner was small and intimate, as it was close to brunch it was nearly empty. She walked inside to see Junior sitting at a far booth in the back, waiting. He looked up and saw her, she knew he was smiling under his mask. Taking her hand, Junior moved the mask to kiss her hand, helping her into a booth. 

 "Good morning, beautiful.“ She slid into the booth, feeling the heat under the skin. 

 "Good morning, handsome.” He reached under the table bringing one of her legs into his lap, running the skin he found there. 

 The two talked a bit, Junior continuously rubbing her leg. They ordered crepes and the food had just come when Junior’s phone began to ring. He rolled his eyes looking at the screen. 

 "I have to take this, hold on.“ She sighed stirring her coffee waiting for him to finish. 

 "I just started…now? You sure? Ugh, yea hyung ok. Bye.” Junior hung up the phone, looking at her. “Bad news." 

 She took a bite of her crepe shaking her head. "Nope, don’t wanna hear it. Eat." 

 He reached across the table, taking her hand. "I have to go. If we practice now, we won’t have to tomorrow. We have interviews tomorrow and a small fan special." 

 She rolled her eyes, taking her leg from his grasp. "We haven’t seen each other much. So, I can’t see you tomorrow. What about the next day?" 

 Junior sighed. "Come with me then." 

 "To the dance studio? To watch you practice?” This was an exciting prospect. 

“Yes. You can watch us practice, and say hello to the guys. You can eat with us and I’ll take you home, and try to stay for a little after. That way we still had today. Is that ok?" 

 She tried to pretend to be upset, looking disinterested before smiling at him. "Yes." 

 Junior asked for the food to be packaged up, finishing off his coffee as they both got up and exited the diner. He put a hat on his head pulling it low as they signaled a taxi, heading back to the JYP building. Once inside, he removed his mask, taking her face in one hand he turned her mouth towards his for a kiss, leading the way to the practice room. The guys greeted her one by one. Yugyeom and Mark waving hello, JB hugging her and BamBam and Jackson trying to get her attention, making her laugh to irritate their hyung. She sat down in a corner, watching the boys start their practice.

 She loved watching Junior dance. He was so confident in his steps, moving in time to the music. He looked her way every time he could, making a kiss face or winking at her.

 It made her feel special that he even brought her here. That he was shamelessly flirting with her in front of his friends. After about an hour they stopped for a break, Jackson coming up to her. 

 "Junior is a good dancer, but I think I’m better. I know you were watching me.” He winked at her sitting down next to her draping an arm across her shoulders.  

“You are a good dancer. I like watching Yugyeom more though.” That earned a blush from the young man, a scoff from Jackson and a glare her way from Junior. 

 "Eyes on me only.“ Junior said, walking over to flick Jackson on the head. "Hands off, my woman." 

 They all laughed. JB shaking his head, as she stood up facing Junior. "Where’s the bathroom?" 

 "Down the hall, second door on the right.” He made motions with his hands. “Want me to show you?" 

 "No, rest. I’ll be fine.” She answered, walking out the door. 

 The JYP building seemed quiet this morning. She pictures it a more hustle and bustle kind of place. With many groups moving in and out of the place, or at least like her building. As she exited the bathroom, a frosted glass door caught her attention. Specifically, the sound of the voice coming from it. Was that Junior? It was, he seemed annoyed talking to the female voice inside. She knew she shouldn’t listen, but the curiosity overwhelmed her. Slowing down her pace she stopped behind the door, listening. 

 "Why did you bring her here?“ 

 "She’s my girlfriend, I haven’t seen her in 3 days, and she doesn’t like when we don’t spend time together.” She heard Juniors characteristic growl when he was upset. 

 "I don’t like having an issue on my hands like last time. You were seen with her, and we had to pull damage control.“ She recognized that voice from some of his phone calls. It was his manager. 

 Junior sighed heavily speaking again. “Please don’t be so dramatic, it wasn’t bad. No one saw her face, and it was over within a week. In reality, I love my fans, but they need to know I’m human. I have a life too." 

 "You have a life that is Got7 right now. I want her gone. Do something with her. Just…take her out the back door.” The way she said the last part made her hair stand on end. 

 Take her out the back door? Like she was some sort of embarrassment? Biting her lip, she shook her head wanting to hear Junior tell her no. Instead, she felt her heart sinking. 

 "Fine. We’ll leave through the back.“ Her heart fell into her stomach, breath hitching in her throat. 

 Looking down at her hands they felt weak. She had her purse in one hand and phone in the other. Damn him, and damn that bitch. She held back the tears, walking towards the elevator. If it was an issue she could leave, that’s fine. Outside the building, she took a deep breath watching the people go by. It was cheaper to take the train and she would think while she went home. Something had to give. 

 What she didn’t hear was Junior tell the manager that he was sick of this. He would bring her again, and she would leave when he did, that was the end of the discussion. He went back to the practice room, and noticed she wasn’t back. 

 "Where is >>>?” Everyone shrugged, Mark telling him she hadn’t been back in the room yet. 

 Junior went to the female bathroom knocking on the door. When no answer came he waited, knocking again. No one came out. Annoyed he took his phone from his pocket, and attempted to call her. No answer. He called 4 times, texting her as he waited for her to pick up. Annoyed, he held his phone tight, clenching his teeth. Once she was home she looked down at the missed calls, feeling slightly guilty that she didn’t answer his calls or texts. She sat down on the couch, head in her hands trying to figure out what all this meant. Her place in this world, and in this place-with him. A few hours later a knock on her door sounded. 

It was rough, Junior’s loud voice outside the door. “Open the door. I know you’re in there. You left! Without saying anything! Didn’t answer my calls!”

 He kept banging, and she ran to the door just to get him to stop. Keeping the chain on the door she opened it enough to see him. “Jinyoung. Stop." 

 He took a step back, angry scowl on his face. "Me? Stop? Open the door. What’s wrong with you?" 

 Blinking to keep from crying she sighed. "I left to save your repetition. To keep you from having to take me out the back. Don’t wanna upset massa." 

 "Massa? What’s that mean?” Gears clicked in his head as he realized that she heard the conversation between him, and the manager. 

 "Slaves used to call the master that. I’m guessing you can see why I’m upset. Having a history of being made to do those things.“ 

 Junior sighed leaning his head against the door. "It wasn’t like that Jagi. She used the wrong words, but did you even hear what I said after that? She says the wrong things, but she means well. She was trying to stop another outrage.”  

She had turned her face away from the door, snapping back now as he said that. “What outrage?" 

 Without thinking Junior answered. "Over…I don’t care. Just open the door." 

"No. I-I need to be alone, Junior. I need to be alone right now to think. Sort out how I feel about everything." 

 Junior took a step back looking at her. His eyes pleading. "Jagi, stop. Let me in, so I can soothe you.” He reached through the door crack touching her face with his fingertips. 

 "Not today. Just, let me do this.“ He understood. Or at least he thought he did, stepping away from the door, he watched her close it. 

 Hands in his pockets. He stood there awhile wondering if she was on the other side of the door. Placing a hand on it, he sighed whispering close to the wood and hoping she heard him. "I love you." 

 With the release of a new song, Junior was very busy. He texted and called every night at the same time like he usually did. She didn’t seem to be so into their phone calls at first. but he managed to make her laugh and she still told him she loved him. She was standing with her back to the door when she closed it. She had heard him say that he loved her.He sent flowers to her job every day he didn’t see her. He signed the cards: Park JinYoung. One set of flowers contained 2 dozen white roses, and in the middle was a single red rose. The card attached read: 

I’ll stop loving you, when the last flower dies.

                         -Park JinYoung

Catch was the red rose, in the group was made of metal. It wouldn't wilt like the rest. She smiled reading the card, taking the red flower out feeling how lightweight it was. It carried the hint of some perfumed fragrance, and she set it on her desk on top of the card.

 In truth,she was a foreigner here in Korea. She had a great paying job, at a wonderful firm. That was just one place, there was still sexism in the world and yes in Korea. There was still an air of colorism and distrust of anything new. Sure, in the US there were mixed couples and no one usually batted an eye, but here? This was new and she knew she needed to understand that. Girls could be crazy for their idols. They actually did call them idols here. Junior was worshiped, all of the Kpop and Krap guys were. To her it was a bit disturbing sometimes, how into their lives these girls could be. Was this the life she wanted? Constant shows and interviews. Tours. The Korean population could erupt against Junior should they not accept his relationship, and surely his label would drop him if it became a problem. She sighed in all this thinking, nights alone to really contemplate about what she wanted. Her job was one that wasn’t on contract she should do what she want. Could she really go home and forget all this? Forget him? Would he even come for her? A sexual harassment case erupted at her job, so she was on damage control trying to sort that out, and next thing she knew it was 2 weeks before she saw Junior in person and not on face time. 

She came home one evening tired, and annoyed, to see a pink box in front of her door. She picked it,up opening the card on top, to see that it was from Junior. Inside was a nightie. If that. A piece of material white in color, that was lace and a garter belt. She grinned shaking her head, hand on the door as she heard Junior’s voice. 

“I can’t wait to see you in it.” He startled her and she jumped, box falling from her hands. 

Rushing over he picked up the material, placing it back inside to stand and look at her. “Would you like to go on a small day trip with me? 2 days actually.” 

He smiled at her, lips so pink, teeth so white. She smelled his cologne and felt herself falling all over again. He knew what he was doing, hands on hers as he opened her door and lead her inside the apartment. 

“Where are we going?” Taking off her shoes she, walked to her room setting everything on the bed. 

“Starting right now, I’m on a bit of vacation. We finished a music video for the song, everything is done for awhile. I want to take you to a couples spa. Just us. Let’s forget our cares, and just relax. I need it. So do you.” He started unbuttoning her blouse, lips on her neck. 

“And if I say no?” She peeled her arms from the sleeves, turning around as his hands unzipped her skirt pushing the pencil fit material down her legs. 

“You won’t. You want to go, and you want to spend time with me.” Junior’s hands found her breasts, cupping them, he deftly did away with the material that covered them massaging the orbs. 

She turned around, moving from his grasp to sit down on her bed removing her jewelry. “A couples spa?”

Junior moved toward the window opening the blinds enough that the full moon outside shown in. He cut the lights off, moving back towards the bed removing his clothes. 

“Yes. I figured it would be something you like. Intimate, quiet, tranquil. massages and all that.” His slacks came off his legs, standing in the moonlight in his boxers. 

She looked up and down his chest, heart racing in her chest as she realized the spell he had over her. He licked his lips watching her body, as she scooted back on her bed. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are in moonlight, >>>?” 

“Only what you tell me.” She lifted her legs, giving him a glimpse of what he wanted to see. 

His breath caught in his throat he climbed on top of the bed, and over her lips meeting. She kissed him, hands coming to either side of his face, she craved this, craved him. Was this some sort of punishment? Was his ability to bewitch her like this something unique to him or just her stupidity in loving him? Either way she gasped as his hands found her sweet spot, hoping that it was the former. 

stupidly in love omg

The weird part of it is that Danny doesn’t realize Steve’s done it until he’s actually done it.

If that makes any sense.

Or the one where Steve kisses Danny before an undercover op like it’s the most normal thing ever.

And Danny responds just as normally.

Sort of.

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A Lesson in Confidence (Patrick Stump)

Based Off Of the Request: Could you do one where Patrick is still a teenager & struggling with his confidence issues and y/n helps him overcome them and he eventually falls in love y/n?

I’m just pulling my shirt over my head as I hear a knock on the door. I step out of the bathroom, still towel drying my hair, and walk over to the door, pulling it open.

“Patrick?” I say in surprise as I see him. I mean, we’ve lived across the street from each other practically our whole lives, but he never comes here anymore. We were great friends as kids, but as we grew older and I drifted towards cheerleading, he drifted towards music, and because of that, we drifted away from each other. I probably haven’t even talked to him in months, yet here he is, standing on my porch, looking at me in extreme nervousness

“Hey (Y/N)” He says with a nervous smile, “I need your help with something”

“Of course,” I say, intrigued, “come on in”

He steps through the door and into my living room, turning around and messing with his hands, out of nerves I guess.

“What’s going on?” I ask curiously.

“Okay, I’ll tell you but I need you to promise not to laugh” he says, determination hardening his eyes for the split second they meet mine before darting away.

“Patrick, why would I laugh? We’re friends right?” I say encouragingly, but he only lets out a sarcastic laugh as I say that.

“Okay well I, uh,” he stars, cheeks turning red before he even gets the words out “I want to be more like you”

“What you wanna join the cheerleaders?” I ask teasingly.

“No (Y/N),” he says seriously, not appreciating the joke, “ I want to be, um, confident, like you” he finally says, almost ashamed.

The smile dies from my face as I hear his serious question, “Patrick what are you talking about?” I ask quietly.

“ I mean you’re one of the most popular girls in school, you can talk to anyone about anything without even thinking about it, I want to be like that”

“Patrick you don’t need to be like me, you’re a wonderful person the way you are” I say, believing that with everything I have.

Patrick lets out another sarcastic laugh, “(Y/N) you know that’s not true. I can’t talk in class without stuttering, I can’t talk to new people without turning bright red, I even cringe everytime I catch my own reflection in a mirror,” he lists on.

“Patrick-” I try to stop him, saddened as I realize how he views himself

“Stop, I don’t want sympathy, I want your help. I need it. Even you, who used to be one of my best friends in the world, haven’t really talked to me in years!” he says desperately.

“Patrick you know that’s not why” I reply, devastated he would think that.

“I’m sorry,” he says apologetically, “that was harsh”

I stare at him for a few seconds, really looking at him. The way he won’t meet even my eyes, the large hat pulled over his eyes, the baggy clothes. Obviously he’s not happy, and he’s asking me for help.

“Okay, I’ll help you,” I say, “but because I want you to be happy, not because I think you need to change” I say determinedly.

He grins in response, “Yea yea, when do we start?”

“How about today?”I say with a smile, “I think the mall would be a great pace to start”

“Why?” He asks in confusion.

“Because, some new clothes and some fun can do wonders for the self esteem” I say brightly, “ let me just go change really fast.”

I hear a nervous “Okay…” as I disappear into my room.

I throw on some jeans and a tank top, grab my purse, and we head out.

In the car I talk to Patrick about everything that’s gone on in the last couple years, and I’m shocked by how much I missed. He even started a band, and they’ve been practicing for a couple months now.  We get to the mall, and I excitedly drag Patrick to a couple stores.

“Patrick what pant size do you wear?” I ask, searching through arack.

“Why are you looking at pants?” Patrick asks confused

“Skinny jeans are wonderful things Trick, they’re good for the soul, trust me”

He sighs heavily and walks dramatically over to the rak, pulling a pair off. “I think you’re wrong, but i’ll try them on anyway”

I grin at him and shove into his hands a short sleeve button up shirt into her hands. He frowns at it but takes it with him anyway. A few minutes later, he stands in the doorway of the dressing room

“What do you think?” He asks nervously, adjusting his hat. I think he looks amazing, the clothes fit him in a way that his baggy jeans and oversized shirts never could, and they work for him, but that’s not what I say.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, what do you think?”

“I actually like them” he says, sounding surprised.

“See, I told you. They’re good for the soul. ” I say with a teasing smile, “Now, how about we grab you a couple more sets and head out?”

“Sounds good” he turns and walks back into the dressing room. I wander around the store, grabbing two more button ups, some plain t shirts, and a Ramones shirt. Patrick walks up holding three more jeans and a maroon cardigan. I smile at his choices and we head to the register checking out.

We walk through the mall, heading back to the car, when I pause in front of a hat store, looking in the window thoughtfully.

“What are you doing?” Patrick asks, walking back to me.

“Patrick why do you wear the hats?” I as curiously, pointing to the trucker hat pulled down on his head.

“What do you mean? I just…do” Patrick says lamely, looking away.

“Are you sure there’s not a reason?” I ask again pointedly.

“Well I guess, they cover my face kind of, which is good” he says, blushing.

“Okay that makes sense, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t wear them, because you look great in hats, but have you thought about a different kind?”

“Like what?” Patrick asks confused.

“I don’t know, let’s go try some on” I say with a grin, tugging him b the arm into the hat store. We spend almost an hour in there, trying on a bunch of different kinds, but when Patrick pulls on a fedora, I stop him.

“Wait, wait, that looks really good on you” I say, grabbing his arms.

“Yea right” he says with a huff, turning towards the mirror. But when he catches his reflection he grins.

“Hey it actually does look good” he says happily.

I grin and take the hat from him, going over to the counter and paying for him.

“Hey you didn’t have to do that” Patrick protests

“Consider it a gift” i say with a smile as we walk out of the door, placing the fedora on his head and dropping the trucker hat in the bag. We make it back to my car, and then my house. With a promise of hanging out again the next weekend, Patrick heads home, a little happier than he was earlier. I watch him walk home with a smile, already excited for next weekend.


I pull the door open and Patrick starts talking as soon as he sees me.

“Hey (Y/N)” he says, walking into the house and turning towards, me obviously excited about something, “I have an idea”

“Yea what’s that?” I ask with a grin.

“I want to get my hair cut” he says resolutely.

“Really?” I ask in surprise.

“Yes, I want to be done with these stupid sideburns and long hair, what do you think?”

“Oh, I mean I’ve always liked your hair, but I think you would look good with it cut too” I say thinking about what he would look like with shorter hair.

“Perfect, because I already made the appointment , and we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave right now”

I nod with a laugh and we head out the door, and into Patrick’s car.

A half hour later, Patrick stands before me with short hair, and no sideburns. My eyes widen in surprise as he walks up to me. I guess I never realized how much of his face Patrick kept hidden, but now there’s nothing hiding his gorgeous eyes, and cute smile, and his jawline.

“So? What do you think?” Patrick asks.

“Trick you look amazing! What do you think?” I respond excitedly.

“I like it, shouldve ditched those sideburns years ago”

“Hey they weren’t that bad” I say defensively.

“Eh whatever, What are we gonna do now?” He asks, changing the subject.

“Oh I have an idea” I say with a grin. Patrick eyes me warily, but follows me out of the door, and we head back to the mall.

“Why are we in the food court?” Patrick asks exasperated, twenty minutes later.

“Because, I have a plan” I say simply.

“And that is?” Patrick asks warily.

“We are not leaving this place until you get phone numbers from five different girls” I say resolutely.

Patricks eyes practically jump out of his head “Wh-what? No, i-i can’t do that!”

“Yes you can Trick!” I say encouragingly, “ theres are hundreds of girls here, plus you look super hot today”

Patrick looks at me in shock, cheeks reddening at my comment “I’m still not doing it”

“Fine we’ll just sit here all day then” I say, sitting down at a tle and crossing my arms.

Patrick’s glares at me “Fine, but know that I hate you” he says with a glare, stalking away from the table.

“Have fun!” I yell to his retreating back, laughing when he flips me off.

I subtly watch Patrick as he makes his way around, weaving in and out of the crowd, talking to a surprising amount of people. He stumbles through his first few conversations, and I can practically see him stuttering. But when he throws me a dejected, and irked, look, I just grin and throw him a thumbs up in return. He takes a deep breath, and walks over to a table where a girl sits alone reading. I watch as they talk, and she starts laughing. I see her hand her phone over to Patrick, to type his number in. But instead of feeling happy for him, I feel bitter, and annoyed. But before I can question the feeling, a voice speaks up behind me.

“(Y/N), what the hell are you doing here?”

I spin around and see my boyfriend James, looking angrily down at me.

“Oh hey babe, I’m just here with Patrick” I say confused, standing up.

“You’re hanging out with that loser again?” He demands

“First, he’s not a loser, and second, yes I am, so what?” I retort, annoyed at his attitude.

“Really? So what? You canceled our plans tonight to hang out with your stupid little emo project, instead of me, that’s what!”

“He’s just a friend, James” I reply hotly.

“Yeah? And what exactly have you been doing with this “friend” of yours?”

“Nothing, we’re just hanging out!” I say angrily.

“Sure you are, We’re done (Y/N). Next time you whore around why don’t you at least try to hide it” He yells at me, turning around and storming off.

The food court falls quiet as people hear the yell, and turn to stare at me. I feel the press of everyone’s eyes, and tears fill my eyes.

I hear footsteps behind me, and turn just as Patrick reaches me, concern filling his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks frantically, placing his hands on my shoulders.

I shake my head and the tears begin to pour. He immediately wraps his arms around me, murmuring into my ear “Hey, Hey it’s okay, it’s gonna be just fine, let’s get out of here”

He grabs my purse from the table I was sitting at, and guides me out of the crowded food court, all the way back to the car.

We sit in silence on the way home, tears still trickling down my face. Patrick just sings quietly to the radio, reaching over every few minutes to squeeze my hand.  Funny, he came to me for help, and yet he’s helped me more than I could ever help him.


School the next week was horrid. As news of what happened between James and I, and the crazy, completely off rumors inspired by it, spread through the school, all of my “friends” turned against me. Everyone refuses to believe me, instead accepting the lies being spread by James and his friends. In a period of a couple of days, I went from one of the popular groups, to someone who sat in the middle of a huge crowd, but felt completely and utterly alone.

On Friday afternoon I stopped to talk to Patrick in the hallway.

“Hey Trick, still coming over tomorrow?” I asked as I stopped in front of him.

He looked up and grinned when he saw me, and his friends all looked at each other in shock.

“Of course! Noon still good?”

“Yea I-” Am cut off as I spot the group of other seniors standing off behind Patrick. The girls point at me and whisper to each other laughing, and the guys start making ridiculous gestures.

“I, uh, gotta go” I stammer to Patrick, walking away before he or his friends could spot the tears in my eyes. I race past the group of seniors, and push out of the doors of the school, ditching my last two periods.

I spend the rest of the day hanging out by myself in my house, counting down the hours until tomorrow will finally come. I lay in bed and stare at the ceilings for hours, but eventually my exhaustion becomes so intense my eyes finally creep closed.


The next day, I hear a quick knock on the door at exactly 12. A few seconds later patrick pushes the door open, calling into the house. “(Y/N)! I’m here!”

I go down the stairs quickly, unexplainably happy that Patrick is here.

Today he wears the Ramones shirt I got him, a red cardigan, a black fedora, dark grey skinny jeans, and boots. He grins as he sees me, stepping forward to hug me.

“What do we have planned today?” He asks excitedly.

“Patrick, I don’t have anything planned” I say to him

“What? Why?” Patrick asks confused.

“Because look at you Trick! You’re so confident now! It’s only been a month of this, and you’ve already lost the stutter, you look everyone in the eyes,and you practically exude confidence, you don’t need me anymore”

“Oh but, I” Patrick says slowly, confused.

“What?” I ask.

“I just, I don’t want to stop spending time with you” patrick says quietly.

“Why?” I ask, hope creeping up in my throat.

“Because when I came to you for help, I didn’t just want to be confident. I wanted to be confident around you, (Y/N).” Patrick says seriously, taking a step forward.

“You did?” I ask quietly

“Yes” Patrick says with a laugh, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Isn’t what obvious?” I reply.

“I came to you for help because you’re everything I’ve always wanted to be. You’re confident, smart, funny, incredibly kind, and so unbelievably beautiful” Patrick says, taking another step forwards, grabbing my hands.

“You really think so?” I ask in astonishment.

“Yes” Patrick says, only inches away from my face. “And that’s why i’ve been in love with you for so long. All of this was just a way to spend more time with you, to see if my feelings for your were real or just a childhood crush I couldn’t let go of.

“And?” I whispers, looking up into his eyes, “What’s the verdict?”

“You tell me” he whispers back, pulling me into a kiss.

I kiss him back, my hands sliding around his neck.

I pull away with a grin, “ Real, they’re definitely real” I say breathlessly.

hey so I’m back from work and I’ve gone through my activity feed and I’ve decided I don’t want that thing i posted last night at the top of my art blog for a week bc I don’t draw during the work week bc work

so.. i made another gif bc why not apparently progress gifs are neat

also: sorry

the completed art is here

  • Me, lying on top of a grand piano in a fur coat sipping on champagne and being fed grapes by beautiful handmaidens: *sighing heavily and dramatically* carlotta? Iris? My shitposting skills... Theyre suffering... I need fresh content. I need new inspiration. I need a muse!
  • Brendon urie: *releases new content*
  • Me, sitting up slowly, eyes widening: Iris... Carlotta.... Bring me my laptop. I have a post to shit.

You want to know why schizophrenia awareness week is so important? Not just for me personally, but for all of the people out there who don’t say a WORD about their mental illness?

Because there are shitty stereotypes. There are shitty people.

Last year I told someone straight up, “I’m schizophrenic.”

Do you know what he said?

“That’s cool.”

There’s nothing cool about me accusing people I love, and people who love me of being out to get me. There’s nothing cool about hyperventilating, and locking myself up in my room because of one delusion or another. There’s nothing cool about me looking out the window, and seeing a beast staring in. There’s nothing cool about the fan whispering secrets. There’s nothing cool about me sitting in a skype call, and hearing someone who’s apparently not even there talking about bombings.

And this week is so fucking important to me because there have been so many fucking times where people belittle what I go through, or they ENABLE my behaviours. They don’t know what the fuck to do, sometimes people get scared, and it just makes things worse. Sometimes people get angry, or sigh heavily, and tell me to stop ‘being so dramatic.’

This week is important because it’d be nice if people could be more fucking informed on mental illnesses, not JUST schizophrenia and its branches, but if we could have weeks about OTHER mental illnesses.

And I’m angry because so many people have been apathetic on the topic. People ignore the posts. Maybe because they don’t care, or maybe because they’re afraid.

I’m not saying “HELP US”, not at all. I’m saying, “BE AWARE.” If you WANT to help, then be HELPFUL by BEING AWARE.

Because we’re out there, and there could be people you love who are dealing with mental illnesses. You know what I also deal with next to the schizophrenia? DID. I have a multitude of personalities, two of which are dangerous and potentially harmful if I’m put into an unsafe situation. My mother commented recently, “How can people trust you?” She implied that because I have two potentially dangerous personalities that they’ll just snap at the drop of a hat. No. I’m not dangerous, and while they’re potentially terrifying, they’re pretty calm so long as I’m not put into a dangerous situation. They’re a product of the trauma I’ve faced in my childhood, and they’re both very reasonable personalities from what I’d seen/heard/read of their conversations with other people.

But people are just so fucking scared.

There are people out there who want someone like me to be locked up.

There are people who want someone like me dead.

Because they don’t bother to research.

Because they’re afraid.

Because they’ve heard shitty stereotypes.

Because the media dehumanizes people who deal with schizophrenia so often.

We’re very human. We are so human.

That’s why this awareness week is so important.

That’s why I’m openly posting on my personal blog that, yes, I deal with schizophrenia. Do I want to talk about my personal experiences? No.

At first I wasn’t going to say anything because I prefer to not be bothered with these sorts of things. This isn’t a little book club, I don’t WANT to relate to anyone on the experiences, and I don’t want to hear about other people’s experiences dealing with schizophrenia.

I’m coping, I’m trying, and now I’ve lost my train of thought. I’ve read this like??? Ten times now, and just, nope, it’s gone.

I think the point I’m trying to make is… Don’t sweep us under the rug.

I don’t know. I’m just kind of frustrated.

anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic where Granny and Killian drink Dave under the table.

Your wish is my command random nonnie I am almost 100% sure is you spartanguard.

Almost in time for Captain Charming Friday too. 

1500 or so words, rated D for drunkenness.

Who’s the Lightweight?

Normality had settled over Storybrooke - or as normal as a town filled with magic and fairy tale folk could hope for. Leroy had his moments of glory of course, the odd monster or spell gone awry still required an announcement, but as a rule, life was quiet.

Much to the delight of the local shopkeepers. The risk of certain death was very bad for business.

As was the blasted karaoke night at The Rabbit Hole, Granny thought, angrily swiping at the already clean counters with a cloth. Not even the regulars had come in tonight; there was lasagne piled up in her freezer as evidence of that. Peering out the door of the diner and into the street, there was no sign of human life, just a faint thump of bass and muffled voices from the bar carried on the night air.

Resigned to the fact that service was well and truly done, she let the door close behind her with a jingle of bells. The lasagne might not be required but there was no point in letting the good bottle of whiskey go to waste. Taking down the top shelf liquor and a glass, she sat at the counter and poured herself a generous shot. The aroma of the amber liquid was warm and soothing and she thanked her wolf senses thoroughly for the added enjoyment. Another deep sniff was equally as enjoyable, but with an added dimension that was very familiar.

The Captain was nearby.

Granny could think of worse people to share the bottle with. Hell, she might not even charge him.

On cue, the pirate appeared through the back door of the diner, a wide smile on his face and the prince by his side. Of course. The two were virtually inseparable these days, though she was mildly surprised not to find David at the Rabbit Hole. She had seen him belt out a few Top 40 hits in his time, the cheesier the better.

“Not regaling the town with your vocal stylings tonight, then?” she asked, voice laden with sarcasm.

“There was only so much of Leroy belting out I Will Survive that one man could handle.” David shook his head at the memory.

“Not to mention the fact that Dave’s better half was putting on the pressure for a romantic duet,” Killian added with a wicked raise of his eyebrows.

Was it hot in here?

“There was no way I was getting up there and singing Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” The Prince was adamant as they slid into a booth and picked up a menu. She could not imagine why. The damn thing hadn’t changed in thirty years.

“Kitchen’s closed,” she said, taking a swig of her whiskey. “Didn’t seem worth my while.”

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