sobbing into my cup of coffee

Tears Are What Makes You Human

I’m the one they tell stories about.

Never more than a hushed voice, or a hurried whisper in passing, but I know. In my classes I always have at least one spot open on either side of me. In line at the cafeteria the older students look back to make sure they aren’t taking the last thing they think I might want. I know no one’s birth name, not even those I might consider a friend.

I know exactly when the change was too, in how my fellow students view me.

My dormmate had disappeared for a night before returning, pupils a little too slitted to not be like Them, but who was I to say anything? The change was not unusual at campus, and Hay had been more depressed than before anyway. Staying out late, carrying more candy than iron or salt.

No one said art majors weren’t already a little Lost.

We had never really gotten along greatly, but he had been a grounding presence for me, an easy source of chatter to draw me out of the math calculations that consumed me. I don’t know why I chose Elsewhere U as my university, seeing as I had planned on being a civil engineer, but I had been drawn into the beauty of it when I toured the campus. Our group of 15 had returned as a group of 16, but details.

After Not Hay had taken over, I noticed small things. Batteries missing from my calculators, thrown in the waste bin and covered with crumpled papers. All the fruit gone from our shared mini fridge, replaced with food that looked a little too ripe for the season. I started eating at the cafeteria more often after that. My side of the room was always left untouched, but I still left more ramen seasoning packets under my pillow and in my dresser. July had told me it was better to be safe than sorry, words that campus lived by.

Not Hay would try and help me with my homework sometimes in exchange for me playing a small tune my Nana had taught me on a fiddle that had been passed through generations, but they weren’t much help. I always told them I appreciated the effort though, a small nod of my head that could be interpreted as a bow.

But that’s not why I’m the one they tell stories about.

The finals for the first semester of the year had creeped up on me, resulting in many nights staying awake on at my desk fueled by nothing but energy drinks and cafe mochas as I worked on advanced quantum physics questions. I had just wanted to build bridges, not understand how the universe worked on a quark scale. I could tell I was upsetting Not Hay by the icy looks I felt on my back. Not that Not Hay slept.

I don’t remember how long I was in the library before, or how I got so far back in between the shelves of books whose names I couldn’t pronounce, but I had found a desk and an outlet, and honestly what more did a university student need as they crammed for their final that was worth 75% of their grade.

I had been working over the same problem for over an hour, several steps needed to find the final value but I was stuck on the very first one. I could have been muttering to myself, or maybe They had just sensed my panic. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in several days, even if I had seen Not Hay most of the time. Not Hay never seemed to speak while I was in the room, something I had been thankful for at the time.

“Are you alright?”

The voice had started me so badly I had marked up my paper with a twitch of my pen. I remember trying to find my voice, knowing it was rude to leave a question unanswered. The girl in front of me seemed to take my silence as an answer anyway. She had looked over my station of worn down pencils, crumpled up papers, and my long empty coffee mug I had taken to stabbing in distracted worry, intelligent eyes scanning my notes before looking at me again. Her freckles reminded me of constellations, the way they appeared and disappeared across her pale skin like stars.

“Are you happy?”

Her voice seemed to come from behind me, even as I was facing her. Looking back, she could have been trying to get me to make a deal with her, but at the time all I could do was cry. No one had asked me if I was happy for years, my family pushing me to follow the lineage of engineers before me and my classmates too caught up in their own studies to notice.

I didn’t answer again, instead letting my head fall to the desk as I sobbed. A cold hand was placed on the crown of my head cautiously. That was all the invitation I had needed before I had thrown myself at the girl and sobbed in her arms.

I missed my final.

Not that it would have mattered.

I had cried myself to sleep, for once not dreaming of failing out of school, but instead of a tall and spindly creature with hair as fine as spun silver and eyes as white as snow. They soothed me, the same voice as the girl from before ringing through my ears. When I woke up I was much closer to the entrance of the library than I had been before, my textbook and notebooks stacked neatly and my coffee cup gone.

I looked at my notes, unable to read anything.

I don’t know if it had been a curse for dirtying Their clothes with my tears, or a pitied gift meant to free me in exchange for my tears, but either way I grew to be grateful for it.

I switched majors after a brief conversation with a guidance counselor. I could still do everything up to basic calculus, and so decided I’d look at teaching careers instead. I had always liked children, and the small town at the bottom of the hill had opened a new primary school suddenly.

But that’s not why I am the one they tell stories about.

They tell stories about me because I had been given the Sight when the Fair One had taken my ability to cry.

I have been having lovely conversations with Not Hay lately. About riddles and dances, all smiles and twisted words as students hurry by us, pretending not to hear the hiss in our voices.

[x]

Paradise

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Requested: Yes by anon.

A/N:

masterlist / coming soon

Originally posted by spraystills

You kept replaying the scene in your head like you were rewinding it to figure something out; but there was nothing else to find out – you knew you broke his heart. You remembered the look of pain and discomfort as the truth finally escaped past your sealed lips. Your eyes said it all, and you couldn’t deny it as Austin erupted into tears right in front of you – you’ve never seen a grown man cry like that before, but you figured, if you wasted two years of your life on some girl that didn’t even love you, you’d be in a ball on the ground drowning in tears.

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goodbye, love | jeff atkins

Originally posted by itsme-hannahbaker

  • jeff atkins x y/n
  • 1.1k words 
  • not requested bc I’ve been on a year long hiatus lmao 
  • ( i might open requests again) 

[13 reasons why spoilers]


i almost went to the store with jeff that night.

it could’ve been both of us.

or maybe just me.

but it was him. 

they said the accident was due to drunk driving.

he was sober.

no one thought to run a toxicology test.


his parents think he died a drunk man.

his parents confide in me.

and i them.


i haven’t told them that he was sober.

i know something they don’t.

his parents asked me to speak at his funeral.

here we are.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Oooh, I just found this blog and am loving it! What about a MC that cries easily? Like she could drop a spoon and cry for an hour?

Oh god I relate to this so much. Also, how ironic is that that I was listening to “Crybaby” by Melanie Martinez when I saw this request? :D

Yoosung

  • He sees MC cry
  • Immediately starts crying himself
  • Then he figures he should find out what’s wrong
  • “I was watching those Try Not To Cry videos on Youtube and they’re so *sob* s-sad”
  • What a brilliant idea it was, MC
  • Yoosung holds them until they calm down
  • Probably cooks them a soup or at least gets them a lot of water since crying is a very dehydrating activity

Zen

  • MC was watching one of Zen’s musicals 
  • And there was this one unbelievably sad song
  • To top it off, Zen’s character gets killed in the end
  • Of course it brings about a sobbing session
  • Zen finds it adorable when he finds out why MC is upset
  • But he also feels sorry for them
  • Hums a cheerful melody to relax them 

 Jaehee

  • She found MC typing vigorously on their laptop, tears streaming down their face (literally me writing my coursepaper)
  • It took them some time to notice surprised Jaehee standing in the doorway
  • “I’m just so stressed” – they whispered, wiping away their tears
  • They’re clearly overexerting themselves so Jaehee comes to the rescue
  • Makes them a cup of very strong coffee and helps them with their work
  • Now MC is crying because they are so grateful to Jaehee
  • She’s a bit concerned by how often they cry
  • Probably makes them do a blood test for hormones so that she’s sure they’re okay

Jumin

  •  Found MC crying on the couch with Elizabeth the 3d near them
  • He’s so worried
  • “Her pink jellybeans.. So precious.. How did a creature of such beauty grace this world with her presence..” *Happy tears*

  • Okay Jumin somewhat understands
  • As long as MC is not sad or upset, it’s fine
  • When they’re crying because they’re upset, he panics a little
  • Ready to destroy whatever has caused them grief
  • Only to find out they’re crying because they saw a picture of someone dropping their food on the ground

Seven

  • MC was brewing tea when her hand slipped and they no longer had a teapot
  • Seven went to check in on them because he heard the noise
  • MC was standing among the broken pieces of china, crying
  • His first thought was that they were hurt
  • After making sure they weren’t bleeding, Saeyoung picked up the pieces
  • “Hey, don’t cry, honey. This teapot looked was kinda ugly anyway, Vanderwood gave it as a present so I couldn’t get rid of it”
  • MC giggled through tears
  • “Guess we’re drinking coffee today”
Home  [a Winn Schott imagine]

Request: For the drabble thing can you please do 2, 15, or 24 with Winn Schott? There’s not nearly enough imagines with him on tumblr. :( Thank you! <3

‘2. “I’m feeling very emotionally vulnerable right now so just hold my damn hand.”’

a/n: i just picked one of them cuz you said ‘or’ so…but i agree, not a lotta Winn..


Today has not been a good day. First, it was the four cups of coffee that you spilled all over yourself; which were wicked hot to say the least. Then you almost completely got ran over on your  way to work. When you finally arrive at the DEO, you realize that you don’t have your work ID on you.

It feels like you are going to just break down into sobs right now. You didn’t even want to get out of bed today; you wanted to stay in bed with your boyfriend, except, he wasn’t there! “Hey, hey, guys, they’re with me. Chillax.” Winn defends, holding his hand out towards the security guards, eyes wide.

You sniffle, following behind him, running a hand through your hair. “Winn…” you whine, catching his attention. “I’m feeling very emotionally vulnerable right now so just hold my damn hand.” you groan, pawing at his limp hand at his side.

He jumps slightly at your tone, quickly coming to a stop. The dress shoes squeak on the black marble tile while he spins around, coming face to face with you. His hands tangle with yours as he gazes at you; a worried expression on. “Beautiful, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” he nods to his desk, leading you there.

A heavy huff breaks from your chest. He rests his back on the glass desk, sitting you down in his spinny chair. While you go into extensive detail about your terrible day, he listens intently; thumb stroking your knuckles soothingly. “…and I-I wanna go home, Winn.” you pout, feeling the burning sensation in your eyes all over again.

Suddenly, he jumps up, cupping your face in his smooth hands. “We can go home, babe, okay? I’ll just tell J’onn you’re not feeling too well, alright? I’ll be right back, then we’ll go.” he promises, kissing the crown of your head before scurrying away. Sniffling, you watch him talk to J’onn quickly and the alien pat his arm. “Okay, let’s go!” he smiles, walking back to you.

Standing up, you lean your head on his shoulder as you head to the door. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into him. “You such a good boyfriend.” you praise, pecking his blushing cheek. Thank god for Winn Schott.

you display your pain in a thick wooden frame like some sort of art piece meant to be admired, You make a martyr of yourself, encourage people to admire how courageously you held your head high and blew away all the clouds that threatened to pollute your mind with dark thoughts. You’ve painted this image of yourself and expect everyone else to follow the blow of your whistle as if it were that easy. You stand there as you cry your heart out and then later ask for a cup of coffee as if nothing had happened. Doing these mundane things like replying to a comment on facebook when only moments ago you were choking out heartbroken wretched sobs.
And i’ve never been so confused in my life. And i’ve never been so angry in my life.
So angry at how you don’t let your pain be felt.
So angry at how that cup of coffee probably has drops of my tears in it.
You talk of how I shouldn’t let it control me as if i have a choice. But don’t you see?!

i let it consume me, i let it swallow me up ,
Hell! it is me
and i don’t know how to be myself without it

—  Z.A//I’m Sorry For Your Pain & I’m Sorry For Mine.
My Bucky !

Bucky Barnes x reader

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

I had the shock of my life that morning.

A girl stood in our kitchen wearing one of Bucky’s shirts.

The shirt I had giving him on his birthday last year. I stood, staring at the girl, the grip on my coffee mug tightening.

“Goodmorning, (Y/N)” Steve said, as he stopped to give a quick peck on my temple before opening the fridge. I just stood, emotionless. And here I was,thinking that maybe Bucky felt the same way about me.

Ha. This changed everything.

Steve had spotted the small pout that I had, and came towards me slowly. Then he noticed the girl. AND the shirt.

“Oh” That was all he could say.

“Hi?” The girl looked at us in confusion, as we stared at her. “Im Marie.We met at the party last night ?” She offered.

Right. Thats where I saw her.Bucky brought her back into the tower ?!

“Are you ok, (Y/N)?” she asked, looking a bit frightened.

All of us looked back hearing a pair a footsteps. Bucky walked into the room with a smile on his face. Only to be met with three non-smiling faces.

“Everything ok ?” He asked, looking at me. I glowered at him, and he took a step back. Steve was trying to catch Bucky’s attention without me noticing. But obviously, I noticed.

Bucky turned to look at Marie, and his eyes widened. His eyes snapped back to me, and he shook his head violently.

“No no no !” He said, holding his hands up. “(Y/N), the shirt-”

Marie caught on all of a sudden.

“Bucky kinda ripped my dress, so I had to borrow one of his shirts ! ” She said, and then both she and Bucky looked me wide eyed.

“Thats just great !” I said, dropping my coffee filled cup into the sink, and storming off to my room, locking it.

Bucky was at my door, banging on it  for a long time. I was on my bed, sobbing. Bucky and I werent dating. But we were bestfriends, always fooling around, and flirting, that people always mistake us for a couple. And it had started to grow on me.

I was in love with Bucky Barnes.

But seeing the girl in that shirt, it just broke my heart. It hurt so much. I missed Bucky suddenly. I made my way to wardrobe, and took out one of Bucky’s pullovers (which I had stolen from him). Removing the shirt I had on, I pulled this on with my shorts and was relieve to find that it still smelled like him.

It has been quiet for a while, and I wondered if Bucky had joined that girl. I tip toed to the door, and opened it slowly, only to find Bucky sitting by my door, leaning against the wall. He looked up, and gave me his tearful puppy eyes. I returned his look, and slowly stood up.

“Can I come in ?” He asked in a small voice.

I nodded, stepping aside to let him in. He sat on my bed, and patted the spot next to him. I closed the door behind me, and joined him.

“(Y/N), please let me explain” Bucky said, pleadingly.

“But why Bucky ? You have no reason to do so ! Its not like we’re dating or anything” I said, my voice cracking towards the end.

I blinked raipdly to prevent the tears for falling.

“Oh God” Bucky groaned. “No baby ! Just let me talk alright ? Please ?” I looked at him, and his gorgeous eyes gave me such a look, I could have died.

I nodded.

“I was talking to this girl, Sam introduced her to me. I was about to come up to bed right after you left. She kinda spilled her wine on my shirt, and you know how expensive it was ! I came up to clean it, and she followed me to help” Bucky said, all in one breath.

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for the next part. Or better say, dreading it.

“I was washing my shirt, and she said she’ll grab a shirt for me, and then she closed the drawer too hard, her dress was stuck in it. I tried to open it, but it just wont open ! And I tried to pull her dress out, but the bloody thing ripped, and it ripped bad !”

I tried hard to control my urge to laugh. Not at the story, but his face. He was truly terrified.

“I told her she could borrow one of my shirts, ‘coz it was already late and everyone had gone to bed, and I stepped in to wash my shirt, and when I came back, she was gone. She slept in the spare room. I swear nothing else happened, and I didnt know it was THAT shirt !”

Bucky took in deep breaths once he stopped talking, and I couldnt help but laugh.

“Aww, Buck” I said, putting my arms around his neck, and pulling him into a hug. His arms wound around my waist, and i felt his breath on my neck.

“Dont ever scare me like that” I whispered, holding him tighter.

“Im sorry” he said, lips brushing my ear.

He slowly pulled me onto his lap, making me straddle him.

“You’re the one I want” Bucky said, with a smile. “And you look way better in my clothes ”

We laughed.

“When did you steal this ?” He asked, rubbing my back.

“None of your business” I said, nuzzling his jaw.

“Is that so ?” “Yes it is”

He smiled again, and I kissed his cheek gently, my lips staying there for a while. “I love you, (Y/N)” He said, his blue eyes locked with my brown ones.

I grinned widely, blushing.

“I love you too”

“Of course you do” Bucky said, pressing his lips on mine.

We had to pull back, since neither of us could stop laughing. I kissed him again, this time more seriously, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. The kiss deepened, Bucky flipping me over, and his weight shifted on to me slightly. I adjusted my legs, placing one over his, and his hand immediately went to stroke my thigh, and grabbing it, pulling me closer.

“Hey, (Y/N), where is Buck-” Steve barged into my room, and almost screamed out.

“Oh, you’re here” He managed to say.

“KNOCK you dimwit !” Bucky yelled, rolling off me, and straightening his clothes. I sat up beside him, blushing madly.

“What happened Stevie ?” I asked.

“Oh, Marie left. I had Nat lend her some clothes” Steve said, and he had this smile.

“And she asked if I wanted to go out for coffee sometime” He said, blushing. “Oh wow !” I said, sighing in relief. Bucky laughed.

“She said she’ll bring the shirt over later” Steve said, smirking.

“Oh, you can ask her to keep it” I said shaking my head. “I wont have it here anymore”

“But its my favorite !” Bucky whined.

“I’ll get you a new one !” I said, and Bucky calmed down.

“Ok, you guys carry on” Steve said, waving his hand, and turned to leave.

Just as Steve left, Bucky got up, to lock the door. He turned with a smirk and said, “Where were we ?”

Soap Series (PT.1)

Soap Series is basically just a series of AUs where Binu is the main ship. All AUs are different, but they’re going to be connected to each other.

Each of these parts are dedicated to my wife @aroha-x-astro I love you Binnie~~ I promised her that I would make her Binu fluff when we first met, so lol here I am to make it up. 

It’s also been the longest time since I posted my writing, so I feel as if my skills are a bit rusty lolol.

‘You’re the customer and you get back at me for all the times I’ve spelt your name wrong by mispronouncing my name in increasingly horrible ways’ AU

Keep reading

4

wonho really had a date with cookie monster at his mum’s cafe, is this not this not the cutest thing ever?

Cookie and I, the two of us ordered a cup of coffee and drank it together. I told him to wear warmly and come since I caught a cold. But he didn’t listen and came so his body turned blue because he was cold. Since you never know if (you’ll) catch the cold
I told him to watch out for the place that my mouth went on and drink. That’s why he got sulky like that and didn’t even put (his) mouth on it. He won’t even stare at me… Where are you even staring at (cr: monstaxtrans)

anonymous asked:

I love your blog!! It's so nice, I was wondering if you could do a scenario where Todoroki Shouto finds out that his s/o has an addiction to coffee. I, myself have a huge addiction to coffee (-w-') Much appreciated!

“Todoroki, over here!” You called out to him waving your arm. It was lunch time and as usual the cantine was full to the last seat. Todoroki held his meal tray tight, the slightest bump could cause the soup to get mixed up with the spaghetti and that was something he really didn’t want to happen.
Carefully making his way to his s/o’s table, he sat next to them and let out a silent sigh.

“Thanks for waiting, __. Let’s eat.”
You nodded and started digging in.

Todoroki isn’t much of a talker when he’s eating. He prefers to focus on his meal and eat in silence. That was the case today as well, except that he was staring at you all the time.

A shy smile appeared on your tomato-sauce red lips. “Is something wrong Todoroki? You’re kind of..staring.”
The boy blinked twice and said, “Are you drinking coffee again? You had one in the morning too.”
Your gaze wandered to the small white cup next to your tray. “Oh, yeah it is! I like coffee a lot, I could drink it all day.”

Todoroki watched your happy expression and couldn’t help but frown. “You shouldn’t drink it that often. How will you sleep at night?”

This concern isn’t new for you, almost everyone in your life has asked you the same or similiar questions before so you simply answer, “I don’t know, I just can. Don’t worry about it.”


The next day weird things kept happening to you. You couldn’t decide wether it was your own clumsiness or bad luck, maybe even a combination of both.

In the morning you knocked your coffee cup over the table, though you were pretty sure you had put it far away to make sure that wouldn’t happen.
You bought another cup in the afternoon for lunch, left in the middle of eating to go to the bathroom and when you came back your coffee had cooled down.
And at the dorms you wanted to pour yourself some hot coffee to drink while reading your favorite book, but all the coffee was suddenly gone!

“What is this ! Can’t I just have my coffee today?!” You exclaimed, placing the still empty cup down a little too strongly.

“What’s wrong, __?” Todoroki asked entering the kitchen. You threw yourself on him, sobbing.
“Today is just awful I haven’t been able to drink my coffee at all! And now we’re even out of coffee!”

Todoroki held you up and close to him with one hand placed on your back and looked at your empty coffee reserves.
“Sounds like you had a bad day. You can just buy some tomorrow. I’m going to take a shower now.”

“But what am I going to do for the rest of the evening!”
Todoroki turns his back to you “I don’t know, drink apple juice.”
You couldn’t believe how he cared so less about your obviously very important problem.
Little did you know that Todoroki clenched his hand into a fist before his chest and silently celebrated his success with a smile on his lips.

He would definitely confront you about his concerns with your coffee addiction some day. But today is not that day and until then he will continue to play with you.

2

《THU》|| 11.07 // 11.07 am || 25.06 || This morning I woke up late because I have a strong headache… probably I have to close the window or I have to dry better my hair before going to sleep…
Today still Italian, at first I would copy notes of Dante’s “Inferno”, and then the rest of the literature, so as to keep the notebook ordered without writing Dante on one side and literature on the other.
To start a nice day, a cup of white coffee with lactose-free milk because this poor child, since about two months, has become lactose intolerant, sob.

Snapped - Dean Winchester Imagine (requested)

Originally posted by zest-wincest

Dean’s POV 

 I squint at the light. A hand shaking me awake. My neck slightly sore from falling asleep on the couch. “What?” I snap, tired. 

 "Sorry, I thought you might want to sleep in your bed.“ Y/N says. Her voice soft and quiet. Almost hard to hear. 

"Whatever.” I grunt, heaving myself off the couch so, I can sleep in my bed. 

 I don’t hear the quiet sobs and whimpers through out the whole night. 

 "Son of a bitch.“ I whisper, waking up to only trip over my shoes.

 I follow the smell of bacon to the kitchen. Y/N’s cooking. Two handfuls of bacon on a plate, more in the pan. A few eggs on a separate plate. And something in the oven. 

 "I made a pie. That’s what’s in the oven.” Y/N says. Her voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it. “Sam went to the library.”

 I grunt in response, not awake enough to hold a conversation. A cup of coffee is set in front of me. I nod in appreciation. Drinking half of it in one gulp. Drinking the rest of my coffee, I remember last night. How I snapped at Y/N for being nice. I look over to her. She’s hunched over the stove, tense. Her shoulders slightly shaking. I can’t think of why. But then last night comes to mind. How rough her voice is now. 

 "Y/N?“ I ask, my voice soft. 

 "Yeah.” She says, turning to look at me. Her eyes bloodshot, tear stains on her face. I get up and move towards her, hugging her. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Next time I do just yell at me, slap me even." 

 "I know you’ve been tired lately and I wanted you to get some sleep. I’m sorry.” She whimpers. 

 "No, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is on me. You were being nice and I was an asshole. Now, come one. Let’s go lie down, you look like you haven’t slept in a week.“ I tell her, kissing the top of her head before leading her to my room. 


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If I Could Fly//7//I Love You

Originally posted by breaking-bad-bitches

A/N: omg I am back once again! now that the semester is winding down so I have a lot more time to write so lucky for you all :) no warnings for this one and I am also happy to announce that I have just finished the first installment in the Fassy series so check for that soon too! Slowly but surely this world will come together my friends. let me know what you think! xoxo

masterlist

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That Thing You Do

Originally posted by casclarenceunicorn

Pairing: LuciferxReader
Word count: 5,090
Warnings: Smut, swearing, mentions of previous abuse
Authors: Brittiny and @killerofthesouth
A/N: This actually began as her request, but after reading some of @killerofthesouth s work…I asked if she wanted to pair up for this. I love how well it came out :) Hope to work with her more in the future!
Tagging: @lovetusk


Lucifer sat at the back table of the coffee shop, idly stirring his coffee. He had no actual desire to drink it, so there it sat, cold. Just a week ago, he’d decided to walk among the humans, see how inferior they really were to him. It didn’t take him long to find out that coffee shops were a focal point in human interactions. What better way to observe such depraved creatures?

His chin rested on his hand, his blue eyes looking around at nothing in particular. Nothing had caught his eye in the past five days, so he was tempted to move alone to something else. He’d heard people talk about bars, football games, and so much more. It wasn’t like he had to worry about time, now did he?

He was gazing out the window when you walked over to him. “Excuse me, sir?” You smiled at him as he turned to you. “Um, I was wondering if you were reading that newspaper?” There was a copy sitting on the table up next to his.

“No, here.” He said bluntly, handing it to you.

“Thanks!” You beamed. “Have a nice day.” Turning, you sat at a table on the other side of the coffee shop, opening up to the help wanted ads. There was something different about you, and it irked him that he couldn’t put his finger on it. Sighing, he picked up his coffee and walked out.

Keep reading

You're A Winchester

Warnings: blood, death

Word Count: 2445

Summary: The reader escapes from the orphanage she has grown up in, to find her mother. There she finds out about her biological father, John Winchester.

A/N: I am super excited to share this with you all, as I am hoping to make this into a series, so please let me know what you think and if I should write another part!

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8Part 9 |

Silence swept through the building, as one by one each light switched out. You lay in your bed, carefully listening for the usual clicks of locks on the doors, reminding you of the prison that you had become so familiar with.

You let out a heavy sigh, before slowly sitting upright, and slinking each limb out from the covers of the blanket to the cold floor beneath you. You were already fully dressed: a faded-blue tank top underneath your favourite hazel-brown leather jacket, which you accompanied with a simple pair of dark-blue jeans, and worn out converse shoes. Sneaking over to your wardrobe, you slung a duffel bag over your shoulder, which you had already packed with a few essentials.

Creeping back over across the room to access the window, you pulled a paperclip out of your jean pocket, and proceeded to pick the lock on the window.

Within a few minutes of fidgeting with the lock, a soft click signaled that this task had been completed.

Bringing your hands to the window frame, you slowly pushed it open, until it was wide enough for a person to slip through. That person being you.

Luckily, because of your age, you didn’t share a room with anyone else in the orphanage, which made your secret mission of escaping a whole lot easier.

You began to climb out of the window, before getting a firm grip on the drain-pipe that elongated itself all the way to the ground (your room was on the second-storey). Once you felt as safe as possible in your grip, your descent of the pipe was underway. You were about halfway down when you felt your fingers slowly begin to slide, and before you could do anything, you were falling.

With a big thud, you landed on the large strip of grass beneath you, shooting a sharp pain through your back. You lay motionless on your back for several moments, just groaning through the passing pain. Pulling yourself to your feet, you brushed off any blades of grass and dirt that clung to your jeans.

You did it. You had escaped from the place you had grown up your entire life. You could only call it ‘a place’, because it never earned the title as your home. You didn’t have a home.

Walking with a sense of victory along the quiet and dimly-lit streets, you headed towards the nearest bus station, to sit yourself down on the seat, buzzing with adrenalin from your escapade.

You shuffled the duffel off your shoulder, into your lap, before zipping it agape to all the contents inside. Pulling out a folded piece of paper, you opened it to read the contents that you had read over and over again for the past few months, and knew off by heart.

In your peripherals, you saw the approaching brightness of a pair of headlights. Zipping your bag closed, you stood up, still clutching the piece of paper in your hands.

“Happy 18th birthday,” you muttered to yourself with a smile, as you boarded the bus that had stopped before you.


It had been three days since your successful escape mission. You had travelled through day and night, only sleeping on public transport or in the back of a stranger’s car while hitch-hiking. You hadn’t had a whole lot to eat, besides a bacon and egg sandwich from a cheap diner, and some fruit that you stole from the market.

The driver of the pickup truck, that you were catching a lift with, gave you a small shake to wake you from your nap. You let out a loud yawn, as you stretched over to the back seat for your bag. Hopping out of the vehicle, you shut the door, giving the driver a thankful nod, and watched him drive off down the road.

You slowly turned around, to face a small house with a letterbox out the front. You didn’t even need to read the numbers carefully painted on it, to know what address you were at. How could you? The address had been etched into your mind from re-reading it on that piece of paper every day for several months.

Hesitantly, you made your way up to the front door. You waited there in front of it for what feel like forever. Scenarios of what could follow your knock at the door began to whizz through your mind. Ever since you retrieved that address at the orphanage, you constantly thought of every single thing that could go right or wrong.

But you were here now.

With a loud sigh, you finally raised your clenched fist upright to the door, giving a few definite knocks, before quickly returning it to your side.

You heard silence for a few moments, before hearing the sound of soft footsteps slowly approaching the door. You held your breath as the door opened.

It revealed a middle-aged woman, with piercing stormy-blue eyes, and strawberry-blonde hair tied up messily into a bun. She looked at your figure, glancing up and down with intrigue, while keeping the majority of her body guarded behind the door.

“Um, hello,” she asked softly, before clearing her throat, “Can I help you with something?”

You shifted your stance nervously as you responded, “Uh, no. Not quite.” You let out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My name is Y/N Fulligan. I’m your daughter.”


Your mother stayed in the kitchen the entire time she prepared the tea. You on the other hand, sat awkwardly on the couch in the living room, taking in your surroundings of the place. It was a quaint house that would usually feel quite warm and homely. But under the circumstances, the place felt foreign and somewhat uninviting.

She returned with two steaming mugs, placing both on the coffee table in front of you, before sitting herself down on the other end of the couch.

The room was filled with a deafening silence for several uncomfortable moments. You knew your mother wasn’t going to break the silence anytime soon.

“Why?” you asked, not looking at her, but instead focusing on your mug. She didn’t seem to understand, as you could see her confused expression in your peripheral vision. You turned both your body and your gaze towards her before asking again, with a firmer tone.

“Why?! Why did you give me up? Why did you let me rot 18 years away in an orphanage? Why did you never even bother to contact me at all?!” You didn’t realise until you were finished, that tears were rolling down your cheeks.

Your mother sighed as she dropped her head.

“It is not so black and white, Y/N,” she began, “I was just starting to figure out my life; early 20s, studying at college. And then he came to town.”

Even at that mention, you knew who the ‘he’ was that she was referring to. Your father. You leant forward with intrigue, silently begging to hear more.

“It was May 17th, and his name was John Winchester. I met him when I was working my night-shift at the bar. He sat himself down, and ordered some pretty heavy liquor. He looked absolutely exhausted, so I decided to start a conversation with him. It turned out that it was his wedding anniversary with his wife, who had passed away quite a number of years ago. Apparently, every year was the same: drowning out his sorrows till his liver almost exploded.”

“Hours went by and the bar began to empty. When I finished my shift, he was still there, draining the contents of his flask. I told him that I had to close up shop, and he would need to head home. And that’s when it all happened. With a drunken passion he began to kiss me, and being the naïve person that I was, I didn’t resist. And, I’m guessing you can understand where that led.”

You shifted uncomfortably, as your mother slightly smirked.

“But when I woke up the next morning in my apartment, he was gone. There was nothing to even suggest that he was ever there in the first place. Weeks went past till I found out I was pregnant with you. Abortion was never an option, because of my upbringing, so I knew giving you up was the next best thing.”

Your eyes were becoming watery again, just at the thought that you were just an accident and a problem in your mother’s life that needed to be gotten rid of at the earliest opportunity. “Did you ever regret it?” you murmured.

She gave a sad smile before replying, “No. I was young. I had a future to focus on. I was studying. And I wanted a future with someone. None of that could have truly happened if I kept you around.”

A single tear escaped your eyes, but you brushed it away as quickly as it fell. Not being wanted was nothing new for you. But to hear your own mother verbally say that she couldn’t have you around to succeed in life, was a difficult truth to stomach.

Still, your mind was blurring with information about your father. John Winchester. You had to find out more. When you found the address of your mother in your file at the orphanage, you couldn’t find any trace of information about your father. So maybe your mother was the key.

Pushing any oncoming sobs back down your throat, you asked, “What about John? What about my father?”

Your mother reached over to the coffee table, taking a small sip of her tea before responding, “I don’t know where he is. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I tried to contact him somehow. I searched phonebooks, records, the entire internet you name it. But nothing. So I left it, because what more could I do?”

Cupping your tea mug in your hands, you sighed with disappointment. You took a large gulp of your tea, feeling the burning sensation run down your throat. Your mother saw your disappointment, and quickly began to speak again.

“But like I said, we talked for hours at the bar. I did learn a great deal about him, whether it was from his honest nature or the alcohol. He told me about the type of job he does for a living. He’s a hunter.”

You took a small sip of your tea, looking on with great interest, as she continued, “And no, not a regular run-of-the-mill deer-shooting hunter. I’m talking hunter of the supernatural. Werewolves, vampires, demons. Shall I continue?”

Slightly choking on the tea in your mouth, you shook your head in disagreement. “That’s not possible. Those types of creatures are not even real!”

Smirking, your mother answered, “Oh well, starting believing it. Because it is real. John’s job as a hunter is a tough gig, because I mean, they kill the evil in the world that we don’t even know about! And he’s not alone. Apparently the world is full of hunters, fighting off evil on a daily basis. Since that night, I’ve done some research about all this mythical crap; actually quite a fair bit of research that I could actually become a hunter if I wanted to, which I obviously never did.”

With wide eyes, you put down your mug, taking a few deep breaths, trying to comprehend what your mother was saying. The kind of monsters and creatures you were told weren’t real, the ones only the result of special effects in the movies, were actually roaming the earth.

Your mother smiled, and let out a small laugh when she saw you trying to process everything. She reached over to your arm, and placed her hand on top, as you looked up at her. “Look I can see you’re having a hard time coming to terms with it all, so how about you run to the market just up the street and grab us some ingredients for dinner tonight. We can discuss it all then, and I’ll answer any questions you have. I’ll fetch you some money, and I’ll write you a list of things that we need. Okay?“

You nodded as she rose up from the couch and wandered over to the kitchen, leaving you behind on the couch, still trying to comprehend that Dracula was most likely real.


Stalking each aisle, you tried your best to find where the tinned tomatoes were located. Finally finding them, you placed them in your basket, before proceeding to the checkout with all of the groceries on the list that your mother had given you.

It felt weird to be doing something as normal as getting the groceries for dinner. Nothing in your life had ever been normal. So doing this one normal thing at the age of 18 just felt bizarre. But in a strange way, it almost felt right. This was the life that you were supposed to have, instead of spending every night for dinner at a table by yourself in a dingy cafeteria.

Giving the cashier a beaming smile, you walked with a newfound joy in each step you took.

Of course you knew that you obviously couldn’t have a regular mother-daughter relationship together, but you could still maintain a friendship. Despite her giving you away, you began to realise that you probably would have done the same. You just wished you could have had more contact with her during the years.

Finally arriving at the house, you found yourself beaming from ear to ear as you approached the door. You were just about to knock, when you saw that the door was already slightly ajar.

Confused, you slowly pushed open the door, enough to squeeze through, before closing the door once more.

You just stood in the small hallway, with a feeling in your gut that something was wrong. You creeped your way to the kitchen with hesitation. And you had a right to, with the sight you saw as you entered the kitchen.

Your mother lay on ground, surrounded by a large pool of crimson. Blood was irregularly splattered in small dots all around her. Her left arm was splayed lifeless, next to her, with three words etched into her flesh. It wasn’t the neatest writing, but it was legible.

Gaining all the strength you had not to fall to your knees, you took a deep breath before collecting your duffel bag from the living room.

You knew what you needed to do.

Walking towards the front door, you caught a glimpse of your dead mother, and the words on her arm that would haunt your every step.

You’re next Winchester’

IMAGINE : He’s mad at you and won’t speak with you * * * *

He’s mad at you, after a little argument you two had, he didn’t talked to you anymore. Silence treatment was the worst, you wished for his anger and shouts instead of his cold shoulder.

Exhausted and jet lagged, you’re waiting in airport for aircrafts refuel with harry no where to be seen. Better than anyone you know he disappeared to not be around you. How much you resist you can’t stop tears from forming in your eyes, you know it was your fault, you shouldn’t lied to him but it was for the best , you couldn’t be so selfish to stop him during a show just because you felt sick. It was a hard night throwing up all night but it was worst when he find out you’re lied about visit a friend instead booked a hotel to resist him.

One of tears find its way to drop and you look down didn’t want anyone look at you. “Hey y/n, are you ok darling?” Louis asked you and you shake your head yes, you didn’t want to look weak and whatever is between you and Harry it’s better stay that way. “Do you want anything? I can buy you a cup of coffee maybe or chocolate to make you feel better?” You shake your head no and sobs left your mouth. “I know it’s harry, do you want me kick his arse ?” I couldn’t resist it anymore, pushing myself in his embrace and hold him so tight while my tears wet his shirt. “I told him I’m sorry but b-but he …” I couldn’t finish my sentence as my sobs echoed in air “shhh it’s ok, he’ll get over it soon, he’s just mad at himself” Louis told you stroking your hair. “I’m j-just missing H-him” you sigh , it’s so hard being this close to harry and being as far as you can from him , there’s miles space between us.

Harry came out from no where and saw you with Louis. He paused a second stare at your tear stained face. His eyes are still wiled and unkind on you. You erased your tears looked away, however you missed his eyes on you so much but his mad eyes make your skin bruised.

From corner of your eyes you saw him walked closer and Louis excused himself giving you two some space. Harry soft and the same time roughly holds your shoulder “are you ok? Do you feel sick again?” He asked worried, you shake your head couldn’t trust your voice , he sighs “come here babe” he pulled you to his embrace and your eyes fall out , he’s here , his warmth covered your body. After minutes your breaths calm down “I’m sorry harry” you told him once more but he shushed you. After two days being in his arms is the only thing you want and you know better he feels the same.

5

More of Part 1

I should be further along than this! I have everything pulled and ready to go but my heart just isn’t in it right now.

I’ve been struggling with the loss of 2 of my family members. My nephew was shot 2 months ago but he was holding on and we thought he was going to make it, but then he had a stroke…he was 39 years old. My niece had been fighting for 4 years with End Stage Renal Failure…she lost her battle 2 days after my nephew…only 28 years old!

I’m not trying to post a sob story, I just felt like I needed to get that out because I’ve been holding onto it for my brother’s sake!

I’ll be off line after tomorrow for a few days (funeral services Friday) There seems to be so much tragedy in the world lately and it’s taking it’s toll on so many!  Creating and playing Sims does help a little so hopefully I’ll be finishing more stuff soon!!

Everything above is ready - All have 3 - 9 original Sims4 recolors except the signature and the coffee cup decal. The Chef Station is a slave to the one with the stove (which was in the previous upload). The shelf with utensils is a slave to the one without untensils (Master Shelf)

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The signs as things i did at 4 am
  • Aires: punched my lamp and laughed maniacally when it fell over
  • Taurus: rolled myself into six blankets and then whispered 'blankrrito'
  • Gemini: watched videos of guy fieri for three hours
  • Cancer: cried over dropping a stuffed animal on the floor
  • Leo: ate three bowls of cereal while sobbing
  • Virgo: asked a guy on omegle if he wanted to see my dick then held up a picture of Richard Parker from Spiderman
  • Libra: listened to fall out boy's entire discography while drawing a picture of a dragon with bee wings
  • Scorpio: signed up for scenekids.com under the name Xxb100d-0nth3-dancef100rxX
  • Sagittarius: put a blanket over my dog then screamed because i couldnt find him
  • Capricorn: reblogged a picture of pepe and the feels guy graphically fucking and tagged it 'aesthetic'
  • Aquarius: read a 500k fic about bowser and waluigi
  • Pisces: drank like five cups of coffee then cried while trying to apply eyeliner to my entire eye and listened to welcome to the black parade on repeat until morning