the sun is setting earlier these days

I Got You On My Mind [Part 2]

Jungkook Soulmate AU

Part One | Part Two | Next Part

Genre: Angst (ft. Fuckboy!Jungkook)

Summary: Ever since your fateful first encounter with Jungkook, it’s been radio silence in your mind. You’re trying your best to move on. But no matter how hard you try to forget him, life finds away to throw the two of you back together.

Word count: 2.2k

Originally posted by jungxook

A few weeks later, and any tension between you and Jieun was gone. Currently, she sat in front of her vanity, applying makeup in preparation for the music department’s showcase. Behind her, you stood, curling iron in hand, ready to help.

Jieun glanced back to look at you. “You can go ahead,” she said, nodding towards the tool in your hand. “I’ll just do my makeup at the same time–it’s fine.”

You nodded and got started, making quick work of Jieun’s thick, black hair. Soon, her hair fell in glistening loose waves.

“You look good,” you smiled, kneeling down to unplug the curler from her bedroom wall. “We should get going soon. You know, it would probably be faster if you got ready backstage.”

“Like hell,” Jieun snorted, standing up and smoothing out her small, black dress. “It’s a fight for mirrors. I made the mistake of going backstage in freshman year…never again.”

You laughed as you followed Jieun out of the room. As you passed through your small apartment, you grabbed your bomber jacket from where you had flung it over the couch earlier.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Jieun asked, raising an eyebrow critically as she scanned you from head to toe. Self consciously, you squirmed under her gaze. You were wearing a pair of jeans, a graphic tee, and a bomber–it was acceptable! “Seriously?”

“What?” you demanded, zipping your jacket up. “This fine. I’m keeping it casual. I’m not the one performing, so it doesn’t matter.”

Jieun just rolled her eyes. She threw on a jacket, too, and together you exited the apartment.

Outside, the air was beginning to cool. The sun had already begun to set, the days becoming shorter and shorter as winter approached. Jieun shivered slightly, the cold nipping at her bare legs.

“See?” you taunted, a smile pulling at your lips. “Wearing pants was a good idea.”

“Oh, shut up!” Jieun exclaimed, elbowing you sharply. There was a short stretch of silence, and then Jieun spoke again. This time, her tone was serious. “Y/N, w-we really need to talk. About…you know. What are you going to do? He’s your soulmate, for god’s sake!”

“What can I do?” you asked resignedly. “He made himself clear.”

“But…you’re meant to be together,” Jieun argued quietly, her eyes full of concern as she glanced at you.

“I can’t change how he feels,” you sighed, shoving your hands into your pockets. Even thinking about Jungkook made your heart ache. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Tonight isn’t about me or Jungkook, okay? It’s your night.”

“I know,” Jieun smiled sadly. “I’m just worried about you. You’re my best friend, you know?”

Later, you find yourself sitting in the cushioned seats of your school’s theatre. All the seats around you were occupied–either by friends or family of the performers. A few of the junior students had performed already, but you didn’t pay much attention. After all, you were only there for Jieun.

You glanced at the program in your hands, flipping through it to pass time. As you read through the pages, you spotted Jieun’s name. The program said she’d be singing two songs, both of them ballads you had heard her sing in the shower for weeks.

The person performing after her was a boy named Kihyun, whom you had met at a few parties. You continued scanning the page, looking for names you recognized. Eventually, your gaze gravitated back to Jieun’s name. As your eyes shifted up the page, your heart stopped.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your soulmate’s name was printed neatly above Jieun’s, followed by the two songs he would be singing. Your heart began to race, remembering the last time you had heard Jungkook sing.

Before everything fell apart.

In your nervousness, you had begun tapping your leg rapidly. The woman beside you glared at you pointedly, and you forced yourself to sit still. Suddenly, the people around you began to applaud, and your attention snapped to the stage in front of you.

The boy currently on stage was removing his acoustic guitar from his lap. He stood and bowed, some people in the crowd whistling and hollering. Then, the boy turned and exited the stage, the lights dimming as the next act entered.

In the darkness of the auditorium and in the sudden silence of the audience, you heard the Jungkook’s voice for the first time in weeks. It was quiet, but you heard it nonetheless.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You guessed he was nervous. You couldn’t help the amused smile that appeared, but you resisted the urge to reply to his thoughts. Keeping your mind as blank as possible, you weren’t surprised at the sight in front of you when the lights flickered back on.

At the front of the stage, Jungkook stood, dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants. His bangs were pushed to the side, and the harsh lighting highlighted Jungkook’s sharp features. He looked more handsome now than ever.

You gulped–and then the music started.

Soon, Jungkook’s sweet voice was flowing throughout the theatre. As he sang, he kept his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed. He was singing a cover of Lost Stars, which fit his voice perfectly. As the song progressed, Jungkook switched to a falsetto, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to be carried away by Jungkook’s beautiful voice. His words surrounded you like an embrace, and you wished those loving lyrics were for you.

Needless to say, you couldn’t be blamed for being unable to focus on the rest of the performances following Jungkook’s.

Jieun clung to your arm, her breath already reeking of alcohol. Around you, a swelling mass of people moved, and deafening electronic music thudded in the background.

“Come on, Y/N,” Jieun slurred, giggling at herself. “Just have a drink with me! It won’t kill you.”

“I didn’t plan on coming to your afterparty,” you frowned, trying to discreetly lead your friend towards the front door. She noticed and stomped her foot.

“You’re so mean!” Jieun whined. “You owe me. You didn’t even pay attention to my performance! I could tell y-you were still thinking about Jungkook!”

“Shh!” you hissed, covering her mouth with your hand. “Fine! I’ll drink. Shit, Jieun. Don’t…talk about that here, okay?”

“‘Kay!” Jieun chirped triumphantly, dragging you to the kitchen with surprising strength.

Inside the kitchen, there was a crowd of very drunk people chanting, “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Somehow, Jieun was able to produce a shot glass filled with tequila. Sighing, you grabbed it and threw it back. A few shots later, you were as sloppy as everyone else. Your friend had disappeared, leaving you with your new friends in the kitchen.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure appear in the entryway of the room. It was Jungkook.

“I’ll be back,” you mumbled, turning to follow your soulmate with newfound courage, no doubt from all the tequila you had just consumed.

The crowd in the living room had dispersed a little bit, allowing you to spot Jungkook quite easily. He leaning against the back of the couch surrounded by a group of his friends, an arm slung over the shoulders of another girl. He held a can of beer in his other hand.

Impulsively, you stormed towards to your soulmate, feeling the frustration and hurt you had buried so well resurface. It also irked you to see Jungkook cozying up with another girl when he knew. You staggered up to Jungkook’s group, pushing past two guys to stand directly in front of your soulmate.

“What the fuck?” one guy spat, grabbing you roughly by the shoulder. You paid him no mind, shaking him off.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you yelled, your words slurring together, as you crossed your arms. “We needta talk.

Suddenly, rough hands spun you around. The guy you had pushed earlier was glaring down at you, positively seething.

“Look at me when talk to you, bitch,” the guy seethed, and you winced as his grip on your arm tightened. Then, he was staggering backwards as if he had been pushed. And it was because he had been. Jungkook stood tall beside you, his expression stony.

“Don’t touch her,” he warned quietly, his voice threatening. Then he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from his friends and out of the living room. Behind you, Jungkook’s friends were openmouthed in surprise.

Jungkook guided to to a secluded hallway, dropping your hand immediately after he stopped walking. He turned to look at you, his expression icy.

“I thought I told you to stay away from me,” he said, his eyes guarded. Jungkook’s lips were set in a straight line, and you thought they looked much better when he was singing earlier that night.

“You did, but you were also being an asshole,” you replied, feeling a little more sober than a few moments ago. Perhaps it was the gravity of the situation. Bravely, you looked into Jungkook’s uncaring eyes. “It’s great that you feel that way. I get it, okay? But it’s not all about you, and we need to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing left to say!” Jungkook exclaimed, frustration seeping into his voice. “I’ve already explained myself to you.”

“No, you haven’t,” you snapped. “You told me to forget about what had happened. But why? You’ve explained absolutely nothing. I don’t know how you feel, let alone how I feel!”

“You want to know how I feel?” Jungkook laughed coldly. “Like I said, there’s not much to say. I don’t feel anything.”

“That’s bullshit!” you cried, feeling angry tears pool in your eyes. You blinked them away furiously. “We’ve been talking for years, Jungkook. You’re not like this…I know you’re not.”

“You know nothing,” Jungkook hissed, backing you up against the wall. He slammed his hands against the plaster, caging you in with his arms. Still, you stared at him, defiant. “Sure, it was fun to play pretend. But that wasn’t me, it won’t ever be me. I’m not going to lie and say that I’ll change for you, because I never will.”

“I’m not asking you to change,” you replied. “You’re making all these assumptions–”

“You should be asking,” Jungkook interrupted, his voice quiet. His arms dropped from around you and he stepped back. His words rang with finality. “If you knew who I really am, you’d ask.”

“Jungkook!” someone called shrilly from around the corner. The girl from before–the one who Jungkook had been sitting with–appeared, her heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floors as she approached. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, you found me,” Jungkook smirked, all traces of your conversation cast away in the blink of an eye. He slipped his arm around the girl’s waist and leaned down to whisper something in her ear.

You bit your lip, your heart stinging painfully.

“What are you looking at?” the girl spat when she saw you still standing there awkwardly.

Jungkook paid you and the girl’s protests no mind. He caught the girl’s lips with his, his tongue slipping obscenely into her mouth. The girl moaned and pressed further against Jungkook. His hands wandered deviously, one hand slipping underneath the girl’s shirt.

Your eyes blurred with tears, and you hurried away before Jungkook and the girl had the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Blindly, you stumbled towards the front door of the fraternity house–at least that was where you thought you were.

In the distance, you thought you heard someone calling your name. Still, you didn’t stop. You were eager to escape this crowded building. The heat and the constant noise were suffocating you. Finally, you reached the door, your hands searching for the knob.

Eventually, you located it. You turned the doorknob with haste, inhaling deeply as you stepped into the crisp, autumn air. You closed the door behind you and continued on aimlessly, your eyes unfocused with unshed tears.

Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, and you kept your eyes cast skyward as you tried not to cry. You weren’t sure where you were going or how long you had been walking. You just kept going, because it was easier than thinking. 

Hurt was still radiating through you, and you wondered why you were still pretending to be fine. You glanced at the ground and let a few tears fall, your vision clearing. 

But by then, it was already too late. You looked up just in time to see the bright headlights of an incoming car.

And then, everything went dark.

The last thing you heard was Jungkook’s voice, ringing loudly in your mind.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Talk to me–are you alright? Fuck! Y/N!”

- Girl in Luv

Okay…another cliffhanger. I’m sorryyyyyyyy! Also I just wanted to say this: I was absolutely shocked by the support I received from the first part of this series. I just wanted to thank everyone who took the time to respond! So, I hope you all enjoyed this second instalment. Stay tuned for part three, and tell me what you think so far! Thanks again, guys 💛

Winchesters in Riverdale (Part Two)

After a hunt gone wrong, Y/N Winchester, the 17 year old half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, her older brothers, and Castiel are transported to Riverdale, a town in a different universe. While Sam, Dean, and Castiel attempt to find a way back home, Y/N struggles to fit in in community of Riverdale. In a universe with no monsters to worry about, there’s so many questions that need answering.

Can she ever try to be normal after hunting for all of her life? Who’s the good-looking, mystical teen with the beanie who’s always at that diner? And will anyone discover that secret she’s been hiding for the last year and a half?


Part One


“What do you mean I have to go to school?” you asked in disbelief as Dean dumped a bunch of school supplies on your motel bed along with a black backpack.

He sighed and sat down in the long chair across the room.

“People’ll get suspicious if there’s a random teen hanging around us during school hours. So unless you wanna be holed up in the motel for God knows how long, you’re going to school.”

You were about to protest when Sam cut you off.

“It’s just for a little bit, Y/N,” he said in an attempt to placate you. “Until we find a way to get outta here.”

You sighed defeatedly.

“Fine.” you said quietly as you sat back against the headboard of the bed, crossing your arms.

Everyone was silent for a moment before Dean spoke again.

“Oh, and you’re with the sophomores. All the junior classes were full.” he said.

Your mouth dropped open.

“Are you serious?!” you exclaimed.

“We signed you up for a mythology class though! You like mythology. That class has kids from all different grades in it.” Sam said.

You glared at him.

“Fine. Just—fine. Whatever.” you mumbled.

Dean rose his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know, I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’ve had a lot more chutzpah since you came back.”

“Dean.” Sam warned.

You looked down. You didn’t want to talk about this now.

“No, I’m serious, Sam,” Dean continued. “She disappears without a trace and then magically returns after a year. Now, she says it was because she had to take a break after Kevin—“

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed again and you winced at the mention of your dead boyfriend.

Dean was quiet as he watched you fiddling with your jacket sleeve, trying not to cry.

“I—Y/N, I’m sorry.” Dean sighed.

“It’s fine.” you said quietly.

“I just—we were just worried. You know that. We didn’t hear from you for a year. We thought you might’ve been dead. You just… left.”

You nodded slowly.

“No, I know.” you mumbled.

Everyone was silent again.

“Well, um, I’m gonna get some dinner for us,” Dean said as he got up. “Does, uh, anyone have any preferences?”

Everyone shook their head.

“Right,” he said. “Cas, come with me?”

Castiel nodded but not before walking over to you, handing you notebooks you didn’t even know he had in his hand. You looked up at him.

“I, uh, got you these in different colors. I didn’t know which one was your favorite.” he said.

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Cas. I appreciate it.”

Castiel nodded before he walked out of the motel with Dean, leaving you with just Sam.

It was silent before Sam spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

You froze and looked up at him.


Your brother looked at you with his puppy dog eyes.

“You’re always thinking about the same thing.  Ever since you came back. I can see it in your eyes. After everything I’ve gone through, I wish I would’ve accepted some help from—”

“Please stop.” you pleaded.

Sam looked at you.

“Y/N?” he asked gently.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Why are you and Dean so adamant on finding out where I was?” you asked, anger tinting your voice.

“Because Y/N, we can see it’s eating at you. You want to tell someone what happened.” he said softly.

You got up, glaring at your brother.

“No, I don’t! I want you guys to leave me alone! Okay?! That was the deal. I come back and you guys ask no questions. So stop interrogating me!” you nearly yelled.

Sam looked down, hurt and you felt tears well up in your eyes, guilt filling you. You knew he was only trying to help.

“I-I’m going out. I’ll be back later. Tell Dean I’m at that diner or something. I don’t care.” you said as you walked towards the door.

“Wait, Y/N.” Sam began as he got up.

“Sam,” you warned, looking back at your brother.

He stopped, looking at you with concern.

“Don’t.” you said and with that you stepped out of the motel, closing the door behind you.

The warm spring air from earlier had cooled down, making you pull your jacket closer to you. The sun was starting to set, giving off a beautiful orange glare. As you walked down the street from the motel, kicking at rocks, you remembered the last day you had seen Kevin.

“Hey guys.” Kevin said as he stepped out from behind Chuck.

Your and your brothers eyes widened.

“Kevin?” you whispered.

He beamed.


You let out a breathless laugh and rushed over to him, throwing your arms around him. He hugged you back tightly and it was then you realized he wasn’t cold like a ghost, but he was… warm? You pulled away from his, holding what you thought was your long dead boyfriend by the shoulders.

“H-How are you—”

“You never got a chance to say goodbye, did you?” Chuck said from next to you.

You shook your head.

“No.” you whispered.

Chuck smiled at you.

“Well, now you do. I’m giving you one last day together. 24 hours starting now. Then he goes to Heaven. I’ll see you later.” he said and with that, disappeared.

You turned back to Kevin who was beaming at you.

“So… what do you want to do?” he asked.

You tried to keep your tears at bay as you walked down the street, shoving your hands in your pockets. Yes, you and Kevin dated. You met him when you were thirteen and started dating him a little after you had turned fourteen. You had tried to keep it a secret from Sam, Dean, and Castiel but they found out within a couple months. Sam was worried (when was he not?) for the both of you, Castiel was indifferent to the situation, and Dean had tried to break you apart, claiming you weren’t allowed to date anyone until you were married.

“But I’m not ever getting married, Dean!”


You cracked a smile as you remembered your eldest brother’s reaction to your relationship. Despite his disgust towards you guys kissing and all, you managed to catch him smirking at the two of you holding hands at one point (though he vehemently denied it and then sent you to do research for two weeks.)

However, your smile faded as you remembered the day, that horrible day when you found Kevin on the ground in the bunker with his eyes burned out. Dean was apologizing to you over and over again but you didn’t even hear him. You were in such a shock, you couldn’t cry. You could barely even breathe. It was the worst day of your life.

You shook your head again, trying to rid yourself of the memories. You thought you could move on from Kevin’s death after Chuck had granted you one day with him. But it only spiraled out of control from there.


A/N: Before I wrote this fic, I actually did write a Kevin x OC story, but never posted it. I’m kinda combining it with this one, and I like how it’s turning out so far! Hope you guys are liking it too!


@lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @juggie-jones-iii @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @johnmurphys-sass @theselfishllama @katshrev @juggiesjuliet @betty-coopers-number-one-stan @imperfectanatomy @casismyguardianangel @irrajj @babearchie @fangites @apocalypticangell @sparklingriverdale @jvghead-jones-iii @onceuponagladerhead @isabellaskyliner @vodkaluh @tegan-eva @murderyoursoul @regenpony @xbobaaa @farmfreshcoldsprouts @hellolittlebigstudent @audreyxhorne @faithmichaluk @thebloodyshuckface @castawayalicia @lost-in-wonderland-x @holoqraphik @soulception @jughead-archie-imagines @juggys-betty @twizzlersnizzler @riverdale–trash @barbarachern @juggiejunkie @likesiriusly @thatsavagehufflepuff @multi-madison @frobert20 @the-local-dreamer-star @stephyra17 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @genderabused @wetsknn

Winchesters in Riverdale Taglist

@famchester @sardonic-jug @prettylies-uglyface @mummastace @saltygay-bean @miraculousrain @emmalynnhockey @polaroidgilmores @thoughtfulfandomtrash @nan-the-lemon @diyoceanbeachup22 @gingerfangirlthefeels @yasminepc @thatcrazyfangirlmaze @acambridge @baasooreexiiaa @disappointeddinosaur @lena-lightwood @pathetic-pisces @s-kellington @seninjakitey @cloudy-1-nights @badwolfgirlatbakerst @lcil123 @seiteixnalaicos @enthusiasmisdepressing @music-hoeee @alice-schlipalius @im-a-hufflepuff-what-can-i-say @b0byyy @therealwatermelon @princess-sweatpants @suitelifeofjughead @lxrrystylinsonfucking69 @milkshakejones @daehguj @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @strxngerluna @belbow @writers-coffee @wayward-mutant @sastielstan @unicornqueen05 @nessy-bearxb @annoyingsibling @team-jessdeservesbetter @jealousbitxh @forsythependletonjonestheiii @rabid-creatures @bitch-ivyxx @theriverdaledaleash @aconfusedidentity

Heh, so, uh, yeah about those updates,,, ^^; to be fair, i blame @thesearchingastronaut and im weak for her ideas. *gestures at fic* case en point

Summary: Sharks and Mers used to live in harmony, then they were banned once Zarkon tried to eradicate the mers. For fifteen years it has been like this, and Lance was fed up with it. He was out exploring when he met a shark, and over the course of many months, they fell in love.Little did they know their true identities or how their relationship could heal the rift between another.

WC: 3689


Lance’s fins curled as the scout continued on and on in front of the court. It was an update about the sharks. They were still outcasts, still limited to the other side of the trench, still not allowed to associate with any of the merpeople. Nothing had changed.

Lance looked at his mother and father from the corner of his eye. Their crowns shimmered in the lighting, the water distorting how bright they actually were. And still, the messenger droned on. Allura was looking just as bored as he was. Each month, they had a scout go to the trench and meet with a shark about the status of their clan. It was part of the agreement when King Alfor banished them to the other side of the trench after Zarkon’s downfall. The sharkman had tried to steal the throne and the hunting grounds of the merpeople, but it had been thanks to the few sharks that didn’t agree with their leader to do such a thing. Despite that, the merpeople were wary of the sharks, once seeing their teeth and sharp fins as protection but now as threats.

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Ghost Messenger

Words: 11.8k
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Read more at Service Series

Originally posted by baebsaes

8:34 am. Y/N: I hope you have a really great day today! Remember to eat and don’t overwork yourself! If you need anything, I’m just a simple text away! :)

8:45 am. Hyunwoo: Yup.

Namjoon smacks his head on his desk, his phone falling through his fingers and onto the wooden surface. He begins to feel his throat tighten from guilt but he suppresses it, inhaling a large breath as he sits up. He shifts the phone aside and opens the file folder, pages and pages of old text messages printed out in front of him. Before noon today, Namjoon has to read all of them and find out the client, Hyunwoo’s, texting habits and mannerisms in order to mimic.

8:34 am. Y/N: I hope you have a good day today too! I know you’re probably really busy today so don’t worry about giving me a call. I’m doing fine here. Good luck on your meeting with the shareholders! Dad mentioned it yesterday so I just wanted to wish you luck. :)

Namjoon can’t fathom how you manage to send a text every single day at the exact same time. What he also doesn’t understand is how your fiancé can consider it annoying or clingy. If anything it’s kind of swee- ding!

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Idea for the next animal crossing game:

you can choose the climate or your town. On the train or whatever Rover asks “what’s the weather like in (town name)?” And the options are “it’s super dry!” “Pretty cold.” “It rains a lot” and “normal, I guess.”

Dry- desert town, rains/ snows MAYBE once a month. Sandy areas instead of dirt on upper half of town.

Cold- snow from October to April. Sun sets much earlier in winter and much later in summer. (Making the winter and summer solstice days make more sense)

Rainy- rain and snow more days than sunny. More thunderstorms

Normal- default animal crossing weather

EARTH & FIRE - (moana) maui x reader

r e q u e s t e d
“Could I get a request with readerxMaui? The reader is another demigod but of the Fire and earth, she has lived with Moana’s family ever since Maui took the heart, but she has never really forgotten him. But she promises Moana’s grandmother that she will protect Moana so when they find Maui and he chits her in that cave, the reader gets mad and actually reveals herself sooner than planned. Sorry if that is too specific, if you can’t do that, that’s okay.”
|[ 1,872 words ]|

Y/N = your name

In this, you took a different appearance. Only small changes like covering your tattoos (which are basically like Maui’s) and changing your height.

◢ ◣◥ ◤ ◢ ◣◥ ◤ ◢ ◣◥ ◤

 Maui… How long has it been since you had last seen Maui? You felt has if it had been thousands of years. And maybe it had.

 You closed your eyes, vaguely remembering his taunting smirk, his soft hair, his deep voice and his tattoos, recounting both of your exploits. You used to be best friend, or you liked to think a little more. Yet, your relationship had never really been established.

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when i was a kid i had a collection of really old peanuts comics and this particular one from 1970 stuck with me so much

it is so perfect, such a study in contrasts between the nine panels of buildup and the crushing payoff, the bright clear day vs the all-encompassing rain, the restrained eagerness of the way he leans to see just a little further around the corner while waiting for the bus in the first panel, the enormous emptiness of the stadium around him in the last one driving home the fact that he has waited there, hoping for the sun, so much longer than anyone else, this contrasted against the adventuresome solitude of the set-up, because he’s there so much earlier than anyone else too, the MOST excited, that the only words in the comic are him sadly reading the rain check rules out loud to himself while still in his seat, in the rain

that the bus is the BASEBALL Special

if you boiled my comedic sensibilities down to their purest essence it would just be this comic, framed, hanging on the wall in an empty museum

If I Could Tell Her

Originally posted by winterfellskingdom

Requested: By absolutely no one, at all
Pairings: Jon Snow x Reader
Summary: You have been in a black mood, even after the Great War has ended. Jon had made it his mission to remedy the situation. 
Warnings: An overall bittersweetness 
Word Count: 1,290
A/N: So I have been kicking this idea around for about a month. I was really insired by If I Could Tell Her, which is from Dear Evan Hansen. You definitely don’t have to be familiar with the song to read this, but I did include the link in case anyone was interested!

The hall was full of music and lively dancing, but you could not feel more empty inside. The war was over, Winter had come and gone. And it had taken too many members of your family with it. The Starks had raised you after your mother and father had perished during Robert’s Rebellion, and you had been raised by the Starks as one of their own.

In fact, you were to be one of their own. The day that Robb proposed to you was perhaps the happiest day of your life. Catelyn had insisted on throwing a huge banquet in honor of the engagement. It was one of your last truly happy memories. You had been angry after Robb forbade you from attending the wedding at the Twins, where his uncle Edmund was married to a Frey girl. You should have been there with him, what with your own wedding on hold until the war was over.

You shook the memories away, closing the long forgotten book that was still resting in your lap. Ghost was nestled by your feet, the direwolf a constant companion since your reunion with the rest of the Starks. Everyone was taking the time to breathe, to relax. You all needed the time to adjust to a new era of peace, after so much war. After all of the fighting, it was strange to spend your days lounging about Winterfell.

Everyone did their best to stay occupied. Sansa was up to her knees in new dresses and lemon cakes, and Arya was still in the process of sorting through the armory. And Jon, Jon was ruling the North during his days. And throughout his nights, he was somehow managing to find time to pull you out of the dark hole that you had fallen in. Piece by piece, smile by smile. It was working, but not as fast as he would have preferred.

Ghost was by your side throughout the day, a warm presence helping to combat against the cold wind of the North. And in the evenings, Jon was by your side. The two of you didn’t really speak of the war, or of the people you had lost. Sometimes, he would read to you while you played with Ghost’s fur, sometimes the two of you would stare into the fire, content to be silent and simply enjoy the company of the other.

But today was different. You had found a small locket that Robb had given to you when you were young. The pain of missing him felt fresh and new.

Jon found you in your chambers, Ghost curled up at the end of the bed. It was not unusual, but when Jon saw the piece of jewelry in your hands, he knew that you were hurting. He chose to pull you into his side, slipping the locket out of your hands and setting it on the table before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He loved you, you know.” Jon said quietly, breaking the silence.

You could only bring yourself to bury your face farther in his neck.

“He never shut up about you.” Jon laughed.

“What did he say?” You had somehow managed to shock the both of you. You usually preferred not to talk about him, but hearing Jon talk about how happy he was made your heart feel as if it was a little less hollow than the day before.

“He thought that you smile was perhaps the purest form of happiness available in this world.” He said, ghosting a kiss over your forehead. When you didn’t respond, Jon thought it better to continue. “He thought about how wonderful your sons would be, and how you would be the perfect mother.”

You smiled, a true genuine smile. One of the very few smiles that you had allowed yourself recently.

“He loved you too, you know.” Jon smiled, eyes once again drifting to the locket that was sitting on the bedside table.

“Of course I know.” Jon’s said, holding back tears as Ghost came to rest his head on your lap. You scratched him behind the ears, grateful for the sudden warmth that was filling his heart.

“What else did he say?”

Jon was silent for a moment, attempting to calm his quickening heart. Robb had talked about you incessantly, but Jon had found himself refusing to listen. It was painful to hear his brother, the trueborn first son of Eddard Stark speaking about his betrothed, the woman that Jon had found himself in love with.

Jon had to improvise. “He said that your eyes were the clearest pools in the seven kingdoms, and that he would tear apart this world and the next if it meant protecting you.” Robb was sure to have thought something of the sort at one time or another, had maybe even voiced them. “I brought you something.” Jon said, hoping that he might be able to pull you out of your black mood.

“You didn’t have to bring me-” you tried to insist that a gift was not necessary, but a withering look from Jon was all that it took to make you fall silent. Instead, you resigned yourself to watching him pull a small piece of parchment out of his pocket.

“I know that Robb has a portrait of the two of you painted for this.” He gently took the locket from the bedside table and gingerly opened it. You didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes as his thumb stroked over the small portrait of you and Robb.

“I thought that you might like to add this to it.” He handed you the parchment, and as you unfolded it,, you found a new portrait. One of Jon. And Arya. And Sansa and Bran and Rickon. “I know that you feel alone. But you still have a family.”

You could feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes. But they were different tears than the ones that you had shed earlier that day. It was easy to forget that even though the war had taken so much from you, that you still had so much to live for.

Jon carefully slipped the new portrait into the locket across from the old one, before fastening it around your neck. The familiar weight against your chest was soothing. You pulled Jon to you, holding him close. The two of you sat in silence, thankful for the other’s warmth, the comfort that flowed between you regardless of the silence. The fire had died, and the sun was setting over Winterfell before the two of you, accompanied by Ghost, made your way out of your rooms and down to the Great Hall.

You were surprised to find your family there, laughing over their meals while a roaring fire made the large stone room feel warm and homey. Exactly as it was before.

You took your place beside Arya before pulling her into your side. You had been locked up in your rooms for a few days, and you knew that they must have been worrying about you. Arya’s sigh of relief as she nuzzled into you was enough to bring about another round of tears. Sansa tucked herself against your other side, and Rickon and Bran found their way into the hug as well.

You reached out your hand for Jon, who was still standing behind you, and you smiled through your tears when his rough hand had captured your own.

Your family may have been a bit broken, and a little bit smaller. But as you all huddled together, you couldn’t help but smile, thinking of how happy Robb, Catelyn, and Ned would have been to see you all together again.


Requested: Imagine Minho being jealous after seeing you with the new Greenie. He tries to play it off cool but fails miserably. 

I watched him run into to the maze for another day of searching for an exit and avoiding grievers. Minho and I have been dating for four and a half months now, I came up into the maze five months ago on this exact day, being the only girl here was horrible for the first few days, but I became fast friends with the boys, especially Newt, Alby, and Minho. Minho and I were instantly attracted to one another, and since I was a medjack, we fell in love through Minho’s numerous injuries from running.  

I shake my head to clear the thoughts and walk into the medjack hut. I’m organizing a medicine cabinet when the alarm goes off. Today is Greenie day, and because of my caring, maternal instinct, I’m in charge of helping the Greenie feel at home. I push through the crowd of boys and meet Newt, Alby, and Gally at the edge of the box. It opens and we see yet another boy, he is muscular with dark hair, and looks absolutely horrified.

Gally jumps into the box and lifts the boy up, “Rise and shine greenie!”

Newt, Alby, and I walk the Greenie away from the amused crowd of boys, “Welcome to the Glade Greenie, I’m Alby, the leader, this is Newt, he’s second in command, and this is Y/N, the only girl around this place.”

The Greenie scans my body, then looks back up to my face smirking, that’s when Newt steps in front of me, “I swear to god Greenbean, if you lay a bloody finger on her, I will kill you before Minho even gets the chance!”    

I smile at Newt’s protectiveness, he and Alby, along with most of the other boys, have always treated me like a sister, “I’ll take it from here boys,” I say turning toward the new boy, “come on Greenie, time for the tour.”

I walk him through the Glade showing him every inch of the place, “So do you remember your name yet?” I ask trying to make small talk.

“It’s-” He pauses, deep in thought, “um…”

“It’s alright; it’ll come to you in a day or t-”

“Nathan!” He suddenly exclaims, “My name’s Nathan.”

“Alright, so Nathan, do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, I do actually,” I raise my eyebrows at him, “Who’s Minho? Newt mentioned him earlier who is he?”

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out,” I wink then giggle.

Minho’s POV

The sun will be setting soon, so I’m making my way back to the Glade, smiling at the thought of seeing my beautiful girlfriend. It’s Greenie day, so we will be having a bonfire, I know how much Y/N loves them. I run through the gate and instantly see her, laughing with the Greenie, his eyes hungrily wander her body, and I trip over my own two feet and faceplant into the ground.

“Shuck!” I hear her call out, trying to conceal the amusement in her voice, “You struggling a little over there sweetheart?” That sassy little slinthead.

I get up on to my feet, trying to gather my dignity up off the ground, and walk up to Y/N with all the pride that I can gather. I look the Greenie, who is standing directly behind her, straight in the eye before turn back to Y/N. I grab her by the waist, dip her down and kiss her square on the lips.

I finally look at the Greenie who is starting back with wide eyes and walk towards him.


Still flustered by the kiss, I see Minho walking towards Nathan, he grabs him by the front of the shirt, pulling him on to his toes, he looks tiny compared Minho, “If you ever look at my girlfriend like that again I will throw you off the shucking cliff, am I clear shank?!”

Nathan nods frantically and Minho walks toward the map room.

“And that, Nathan, was Minho. My wonderful boyfriend,” you say before walking away to prepare for the bonfire.  

Masterlist // Rules List // To-Do List

find her // tommy shelby & reader

· Hi! Please can you do an imagine where you work for the shelbys but you’re poor and can’t always afford food. Tommy has a crush on you but only him and his family know about it. You’re working in the stables late one night when you faint. Tommy realises you’re missing in the morning and sends out everyone to look for you. Him and Arthur find you but can’t wake you up properly so Arthur picks you up and carries you back to the house and Tommy waits by your bedside until you’re conscious again.

· 32 with Tommy. Maybe the reader does something dangerous and Tommy is angry at her?

· Please can you do 32 with Tommy? Thank you! 

32 - “you could have died.”

You’d not grown up with the same luck as many has bestowed upon them as a child. There was not a full table of warm food spread across a large mahogany table every time you ran through the door; you were lucky if you got anything more than a bowl of cold porridge and slice of stale bread each day. Your family had always been poor, dating back generations. And you were destined to be poor too.

Though, you began to think your luck had changed when you met Thomas Shelby. After hearing that the infamous Peaky Blinder was looking for an assistant to help him with his business, you’d showed up at the door of his office with in a day to interview for the position. He’d hired you within a heartbeat. Your charm, intellect and beauty for someone of such a poorer background has captivated him almost as soon as you shyly slipped into his workplace. Tommy wasn’t about to let someone who could amount to so much return to somewhere that she would likely amount to little.

You thought things were changing for your family; you no longer had to pickpocket for extra money, or rummage through bins for food. That was until your father lost his job. You were now the sole provider for your family, and what you earned from the Peaky Blinders simply wasn’t enough. But you wouldn’t ask for more; you simply refused. Tommy and his family had already done so much for you, as well as your parents, and you were not going to use that to your advantage.

On this particular morning, food was so scarce in your house that it was already spread thinly between your parents; you insisted that you would eat something at work and told them not to worry. But in efforts not to trouble Tommy’s mind, you kept quiet. The day went slowly for your body, which was extremely uncooperative due to the small amounts of food you’d had over the past few days. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours. Gradually, your mind began to blur over and your focus dropped. Your fingers rolled across your temples with ease, attempting to relieve yourself of the ache in your brain. With the lack of success that came from that, you ran your hand through your hair in a fit of stress. After a groan emitted from your parted lips you pressed your hand against your forehead and picked up the pen engraved with the company’s name; your hand shook slightly as you tried to concentrate on your work.

“[y/n]!” Tommy must have said your name at least twice before you actually responded to his calls. Your head snapped up to meet his eyes with a flustered smile.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m a bit out of it today.” You blatantly lied to him. He knew something was wrong, and it made his heart swell with worry that you couldn’t tell him; both because he was worried about you, and that you could possible no longer trust him. And that was the last thing he wanted. Thomas had loved you for months now. You hadn’t realised; neither had he. That was until Polly pointed it out after catching him staring longing at you whilst you worked.

“[y/n], why don’t you… um…” Tommy began, trailing off slightly, “why don’t you take a break for a bit?” You looked up at him blankly for a second, thinking he was trying to stop you from doing legitimate work because of your inadequate focus throughout the day. Internally, you reprimanded himself for the way you were acting.

“Oh! Yeah, sure, of course.” You quickly swept up the sheets you’d previously laid across the table and slipped them into a nearby drawer. With a nod and a small smile, you left the room leaving Tommy solemnly leant against the main table, eyes moving from their place on the floor. The door swung open with a thud, and Polly strutting through the door, her heels echoing loudly off the tiled floor. She stopped in her path when seeing Thomas, her eyebrows furrowing slightly before stepping forward to him.


“There’s something wrong with [y/n].” He replied almost immediately, pushing himself off the table and pacing the floor slightly as he rubbed his hand across his jaw in thought. “And she won’t tell me what.”

“You need to talk to her about it.” Polly advised, walking closer to Tommy and propping herself against the chair beside him. “We’ve all noticed. It’s worrying. You have to, Thomas.” Tommy nodded in agreement.

“She’ll be back soon. I got her to take a break. I’ll speak to her then.” He buttoned up the jacket of his suit before composing himself and walking into his office to wait.

“And while you’re at it you could tell her about your feelings too!” Polly shouted back with a smirk, waiting for his crude reply.

“Fuck off, Pol.”

While you had taken the break Tommy had requested for you, a short-lived walk around the smoky streets of Small Heath, you had quickly gotten back to work; little to his knowledge. You’d completed small errands throughout the day, finally finishing your list of tasks for Thomas as a way to take your mind of the hunger. As your last job of the day, you made your way to the stables. You’d promised Tommy you would tend to the horses a while ago, but figured late was better than never. Your walk there was struggled, to say the least, your hazy mind caused you to misinterpret everything and have you falling over your own feet. With a grasp to the handle of the stables, you pushed your self in short of breath and light-headed. You stumbled into against the wall, taking a deep breath in attempt to steady yourself. The cold air of the Birmingham evening flooded your lungs. Your hand began to slip from its place on the brick wall as your eyelids dropped. Your body collapsed to the hay floor when your mind became blank.

Tommy had waited in the same spot for the rest of the day in attempts to catch you when returning to the offices after your break. The sun eventually set and the offices became dark, a pale white reflection from the moon illuminating the office floor. After checking his watch (for what must have been the millionth time) and realising the the time, Tommy sighed. He stood up, slamming the door to his office harshly and left for home.

He arrived at the workplace earlier than usual the next morning, completely expecting you to be sat at your desk scribbling away, like you always were when he showed up. When he was met with an empty desk, the small smile he wore when thinking about seeing you fell from his lips. He quickly brushed it off and composed himself. It was early; you were probably on your way over, he told himself.

When an hour had passed and Tommy still hadn’t witnessed you walking through the main doors to the company, his thoughts began to race with worry. Did you not want to speak to him anymore? You were heavily involved with the Peaky Blinders, something could of easily happened to you - did something happen to you? Was this why you were acting in such a strange manner yesterday? Tommy rushed from his office at a quickened pace to his family where they worked.

“Arthur, John! Either of you seen [y/n]?” He asked, his voice growing louder with as his concern for your safety grew. They only replied with a chuckle and a light tease at Tommy’s affection towards you.

“Worried about your girlfriend, are we, Tom?” Arthur joked, receiving a praising slap on the shoulder from John.

“I’m fucking serious, Arthur. She didn’t come back yesterday either.” The jocular expressions fell from their faces.

“And she’s not here now?” Tommy shook his head, punching his closed fist against the door as distress overcame his mind.

“‘Ere, Tom, it’ll be alright, okay? We’ll get–” Arthur began to console his brother before being cut off by him with a bellowing shout ringing through the office.

“Everyone stop what your doing! I want every single fucking person in this office on the streets and looking for [y/n]. Look everywhere, anywhere – I don’t fucking care! Just find her.” After a brief moment of hesitation and doubt, the office emptied. Tommy was left leant against his desk, like he’d been left the day prior when you walked out his office.

The entirety of the Peaky Blinders were roaming the streets of Small Heath. Thankfully for them, most of the people avoided them out of fear. But those who didn’t, even if it was just a small wave or kind greeting, were pushed out of their path. Nothing was stopping them. They’d searched houses, stores, back alleys. They’d rang family, friends, even other gangs in the area. They’d shouted, beckoned, begged you to come. But still, after hours of hunting for you, everyone was returning to the offices exhausted and carrying no information on your whereabouts. Tommy had practically pleaded them to 'please, keep looking’, and so they obeyed.

Arthur had wandered away from the rest of the group. He didn’t know exactly where his feet were taking him, but he continued nevertheless. He’d eventually stopped at the stables, shouting your name loudly from the other side of the door. After receiving no reply, he pushed open the vast doors and slipped inside. While the darkened night made it difficult to see inside the dimly lit stable, he progressed in his search despite the struggles. He called your name once more, and after again receiving no reply, he began to search the area. Arthur rummaged through the hay and checked almost every inch of the place. And still, he’d found nothing. With a stressed sigh, he ran his hand through his falling hair and began to leave the stables. But something stopped him. A quiet whimper sounding from a small corner of the stables, directly beside the door. He quickly turned, pulling away the hay that had accumulated in the corner. And there you were, curled up on the cold concrete floor after fainting the previous night. Pulling of his suit jacket, he wrapped it around your frame before picking up up into your arms.

“Fuckin’ hell your freezing.” He spoke quietly, “you scared the life out of everyone, especially Tom.” He continued to speak in your ear as he took you back to the offices in attempt to keep you from passing out again. When he walked into the home, Tommy and Polly sat solemnly in silence around a round table, Tommy immediately ran to his side. The chair he was sat on fell to the floor with a thud as Tommy stood he ran to be at your side. His fingertips ran lightly over your face, which had paled slightly because of the colder temperatures. Polly spoke up after witnessing Tommy’s actions.

“Get her upstairs, she needs some food.”

You didn’t remember much when waking the next morning. But you knew you felt better. You’d woke early the next morning in what you recognised as one of the upstairs rooms in the Shelby family home. Eyes scanning the room, they laid upon Tommy, who was sat in a large chair pointed towards you in the corner of the room.

“Tommy?” Your dry throat managed to croak out. His head quickly lifted from its place in his hands, and a small smile graced his lips as he practically ran to your side. He took your hand in his own.

“Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?” His lips brushed lightly against your knuckles.

“I didn’t want to worry you.

 ”You could have died, [y/n]…“ he whispered softly against your hand, ”you could have died.“ In that moment, Tommy’s feeling for you were transparent. Tears welled in the corners of your eye as you saw the nearly broken boy begin to repair himself at your recovery.

"Hey, hey, hey…” you spoke softly, taking your hand from his and placing it beneath his chin to move his face so that it would be facing your own. You placed a light kiss on his lips. “I’m okay.”

The Recruit (Chapter 2) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 2″

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, & Reader

Warnings: Some violence, sort of, slow burn (does that need to be a warning?).

Author’s Note: I have been quietly sitting back and reading basically every bit of fan fiction for a few weeks now that I can find pertaining to Teen Wolf/Stiles/DOB/Mitch Rapp, and I finally decided to throw my hat into the ring. I get so much joy from everyone else’s work and I just really hope you can all get the same out of this.

Summary: Mitch’s fiancee, Katrina, was brutally murdered in a terrorist attack a year and a half ago. He had been hunting the perpetrators by himself for over a year, but finally came across the radar of Irene Kennedy, the Director of the CIA. She sends him to Stan Hurley to be properly trained at becoming a covert assassin on behalf of the American government. When he agreed to all of this, he never expected to meet Y/N.

Chapter Summary: Mitch begins his training with a lesson in tracking people. He ends up getting to know Y/N better and begins opening up himself.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Originally posted by obriens

He pulled a pair of black, tinted safety goggles off the table and raised them over his eyes. Everyone at the gun range paused, and watched Mitch take an AK-47 off the table behind him and begin checking and loading it, wanting to see what the new recruit had to offer in terms of marksmanship. 

You noticed a white cotton t-shirt sticking out slightly from under both ends of his dark gray, chunky sweater. You noted him wearing a darker pair of jeans than the ones he had on yesterday, and then you realized that you were more focused on how his hair still looked good under his protective headphones, than what he was about to do with the high powered weapon. You heard the automatic rifle go off in small spurts and watched as he hit dead on for his target and the four guy’s next to his targets. The men murmured around the gun range, and then went back to their own shooting.

You picked up your Desert Eagle .50 Caliber Handgun and aimed it at his target, from seven rows away. He didn’t notice where your gun was pointed, as he aimed a Glock at the head on his target sheet. Before he could press his finger against the trigger, his target sheet moved. He looked up and saw a new hole, square between the eyes. He looked behind him and saw Stan grinning and leaning against the equipment table. He leaned over the other way and saw you put down your gun and glasses on the table, and raise your eyebrows at him.

“Can’t ever let them get big heads, can you Y/N?” Stan said as you walked towards the exit. You shrugged. Stan patted you on the back as you walked out of target practice. Mitch went back to shooting until the exercise was over.

Keep reading

Too Hot.

You perched on the railing at the stern of the Black Pearl, your hands lay flat on either side of your hips and your billowing white sleeves flapped in the wind, your hair occasionally flicking against your cheeks. You watched your bare feet as they dangled above the gentle ripples in the water created by the ship as it floated silently on the sea.

“Want to go for a dip, love?” tanned, ringed fingers snaked around your waist and pulled you back into a firm chest. Turning your head to the side and opening one eye, you saw Jack standing behind you sporting that smug, gold-toothed charm only he seemed to possess.

“Push me in and I will take you with me, Captain.” you promised halfheartedly and leaned your head back on his shoulder.

He brushed your hair to the side and pressed the back of his fingers to your neck, just above the wide collar that you had pulled away from your skin to air out. “You’re feeling far too hot for my liking, deary. Perhaps it might do you better to be a little lighter with your layers..” he popped a button of your shirt off with his finger and your eyes shot open.

“Jack..” your voice laced with a threat. You spun around to trap him with your knees on either side of his hips, his hands automatically went to your own hips. “Are you suggesting I strip down to my birthday suit in front of your entirely male crew for them all to stare and ogle?” you stroked down his cheek with the tips of your fingers and then gently tugged a braid in his beard. Jack opened his mouth to retort with a confident and all knowing look in his eyes, then suddenly snapped it shut with a frown and furrowed brows.

“Well, no, love. Of course not.” he leaned in with a smile and breathed into your hair “I could send them belowdeck. Or you could always use my quaters and then we can both be in our birthday suits, savvy?” he twiddled a lock of your hair between his fingers as he spoke. Ever the charmer.

You snorted incredulously. You were about to chastise him and then suddenly… an idea. Luckily the crew were resting mostly at the bow of the Pearl, no one to interrupt.

Your entire demeanor changed, becoming that of an enticed woman. You bit your lip and slowly leaned forward till you were close enough to feel the brush of his moustache against your lips, you gave him a smile that you knew struck his pirate heart and made it stop. His eyes were hooded, a lazy grin stretched across his face, his hands moved to your thighs and his thumbs brushed across the bunched up fabric of the brown trousers you wore. Obviously he thought he had won.

Little did he know…

You pressed a sweet kiss to his mouth, his eyes closed and his hands gripped tighter as he returned it. Sliding your own wandering hands up his firm chest so you could feel his palpitating heart, you peppered hot kisses across his cheek and down his neck, his head tilted back to give you more access. He smelled of rum and sweat and the sea.

His hands traveled up to the hem of your shirt and started to creep underneath it, tracing his fingers along the waistband of your trousers. You let him tug your shirt off in lustful frenzy, your chest was wrapped to keep it from becoming cumbersome during the daily labours of living on a ship. His lips returned to yours with a fierce passion and you met that passion with your own, all the while waiting for the opportune moment. Not that you minded the moments leading up to it.

Walking your fingers around his waist, you gripped onto his shirt tight. His hips were still held captive between your knees so you tugged him closer to have him pressed flush against you and locked your ankles behind him. His arms encircled you, running up and down your back, sliding into your hair, playing with the bindings as if he couldn’t touch you enough. With one last mind boggling kiss, you ripped your face away from him, his lips followed yours and his questioning eyes opened to see the mischievous light in your own.

His face dropped, eyes wide. “Not good.”

You fell backwards.

And you took Jack with you.

Jack bellowed out a shout as you both fell into the water with a loud splash.


Gibbs leant against the helm, mopping the sweat off of his brow with a dirty rag. He felt haggard and dehydrated. Jack had asked him to take over whilst he went to find you. You hadn’t been sailing for very long, and with the weather the way it was, he knew Jack was worried he’d find you passed out from heat stroke somewhere. 

The sails were half down so they only cantered along the waves at a slow pace, trouble with that is there’s no breeze to be seen. He needed a drink. Something to stop the murderous intent for his captain from swelling with the number of sweat beads he had to wipe from his eyes. “Mr. Cotton!” he called out. 

Cotton was on the floor leaning up against a barrel of rum they had purchased earlier in the day. His parrot squaked something or other about nothing when Cotton stood up to relieve him.
Even the bird was uncomfortable too.   

Had Jack listened to him when he said it’d be a better idea to set sail in the evening, they would all be taking pleasure in a tavern somewhere, full of rum and beer and wenches. Jack had wanted to make haste to Tortuga, said something about a map, and against his better judgment, Gibbs agreed. He knew the sun would be torture. Not often does he end up disagreeing with the captain though, Jack had lead them up shitcreek manyatime but they always came out alive. And sometimes richer. 

The crew were mostly sitting in the shady parts of the ship, trying to avoid being burnt alive. Gibbs slumped down in Cottons place and pulled out his flask of water. Warm where it had been resting against his overheated skin, it was still a relief to wet his mouth. 

Looking over the ship as he faced the stern, he guessed that Jack must have gone into his quarters. Gibbs chucked the rag over his eyes, mumbling insults about a ‘lazy captain’ and ‘trying to kill us all in this heat’ when he heard a loud splash. Gibbs and Mr. Cotton locked eyes, “Captain!” they both raced to the stern, the rest of the crew following suit after the commotion awoke them.


You breached the surface at the same time, Jack sputtering and wiping the salty sea from his eyes. “Are you bloody mad, woman?!”

“Maybe.” you smiled in relief as you slicked back the wet locks out of your face.

“But I am nice and cool now. I thought you wanted me to go for a dip? You were the one to come up with that suggestion, were you not?” you sent a tiny wave with your hands to splash over him. You laughed when he glared childishly and sent one back. “Next time, give a man a little warning would you? As lovely as you are, an unexpected dive into cold water doesn’t do wonders for a gentleman’s, uh,” he curled his lip and raised his hands out the water to wiggle his fingers, trying to find the appropriate word, “appetite.” he nodded and pointed a finger at you, as if he was teaching you a lesson.


You both turned towards the voice and saw Master Gibbs and the crew leaning over the side, a rope being thrown out towards you. You pouted. “Well, looks like our fun in the sea is over, Captain.” before you swam away to grab the rope, you flung your arms around his neck and gave him a hard kiss. His arms flew up and waved around, but before he could contemplate his actions you were already pulling away.

You tapped him on the tip of his nose as you started to float backwards.

“Regarding your earlier statement; it’s a good thing you’re not a gentleman then, isn’t it?” grinning devilishly, you made sure to splash him with your feet as you swam towards the ship.

Jack watched you wrap the rope around your hand and yank to let the crew know you were ready to be pulled up.

“Was it the wisest decision to pursue a woman as particularly dangerous as she is?” he asked himself. Dragging his hands down his face, he looked to the sky for answers. When it gave him nothing, he decided the best course of action was to simply follow you, wherever you go.

“There’ll be no living with her after this.”


A/N: I love POTC so much! I don’t know how many times I’ve watched the films, obviously the first three being the best. I have another Sherlock fic in the works, this time involving a serious threat to his life! 

I won’t give away anything else. 

Tag List: @chrisevansthedoritobastard
Protests In St. Louis Continue After A Weekend That Saw Dozens Of Arrests
Demonstrators took to the streets after a white ex-officer was acquitted Friday in the shooting death of a black man. The interim police chief said, "This is our city. And we are going to protect it."

Protests in St. Louis over a former police officer’s acquittal in the shooting death of a black man continued Monday after a weekend capped by the arrests of more than 80 people.

About a hundred people marched silently through downtown on Monday, breaking into chants of “If we don’t get it, shut it down!” at City Hall, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch newspaper reports. And St. Louis Public Radio reports that several students walked out of at least two area high schools in protest.

A day earlier, hundreds of peaceful protesters took to the streets, gathering at police headquarters and marching through city streets. But daylight demonstrations on Sunday were a different affair than what occurred once the sun set.

Dig Diary, March 10, 2017:

It is very hot in Luxor right now, so the team often takes a break under the marquee that the Hopkins University team has loaned us (thank you, Betsy!). From left to right are Dr. Jacobus van Dijk of Groningen, who is studying the Sakhmet statues and their epithets with me; our senior Egyptian inspector, Mme Shemaa Mahmoud Ahmed; our second inspector, Mr. Yusuf Mohamed Ahmed; and me. Mary McKercher, of course, is behind the camera as usual.

While we’re not excavating this year (the season is too short), we are carrying out a few useful, small projects. First, at the request of the Supreme Council of Antiquities (SCA) we began on March 4 to cut back the reeds that have once again taken over the northern ends of the sacred lake, particularly on the east side. You can see how thick and tall they have grown in the past year.

Our second project is to clean off the dirt that has accumulated over the past 35 years or so on a Ramesses II doorjamb that we discovered lying on what’s left of the mud brick core of Temple A’s 2nd Pylon. We’ll build a small wall around it to prevent further encroachment. We decided to remove the large undecorated block standing beside it because it obscured a re-used relief in the pylon’s stone facing.

This was no easy task as the rock is not only heavy but awkwardly shaped. However, our workers were able to get it up and out fairly quickly; they do this kind of thing all the time. We admire both their strength and their skill.

To our surprise, we found that the bottom of the Ramesses II block, which we had never cleared, was also decorated! The way the block is lying, the “new” scene, probably from the east face of the 25th Dynasty pylon, is upside down. Seen right side up here, it consists of the crowns of 2 facing figures and several columns of text. The tall plumes on the right probably belong to Amun, and the plumes and sun disk are probably a king. Unfortunately no names are preserved.

You are looking southeast at Temple A’s 2nd Pylon, built in Dynasty 25. The blocks came almost entirely from earlier monuments, including the Ramesses III temple southwest of the sacred lake, which was no longer in use. The reliefs and sculptures were split apart when necessary and their rear surfaces smoothed to form the face of the pylon. This is most obvious in the pylon’s north wing (bottom of picture) where the decay of the mud brick core has made the blocks more visible. The south wing seems to have been built entirely of stone.

Here’s a more detailed view of the inner side of the east facing. The two torsos and upside down head came from the Ramesses III temple. Other reliefs date from earlier in the New Kingdom. The relief on the left, by the way, is the one that was partially hidden by the block we moved.

At the end of a long, hot day, we sit on our hotel balcony and watch the sun set. One evening recently, this enormous flock of ibises flew by heading north. There must have been hundreds altogether.

At the end of a long, hot day, we sit on our hotel balcony and watch the sun set over the Nile. It is a sight that never fails to awe and amaze us.

Posted by Richard Fazzini

No Strings Attached

Originally posted by rideimagines

Originally posted by painfulblisss

Request: Imagine your Bobbys daughter and FWB with Tig.

I kinda went a different direction here, I hope you guys like it.

Smut 💦


You moaned as he rubbed his thumb against your clit.
You stopped your hips from rolling against his, the double sensation becoming too much and you placed your hands on his chest, leaning against him to catch your breath.
“Who said you could stop, baby girl?” He scolded.
“I did,” You panted. “Ya know, since I’m doing most of the work.”
Tig shrugged. “Hey, you’re  the one who wanted to be on top.”
“I like being in charge.” You smirked.
“Is that so?” Tig bucked his hips, pushing his erection further into you and you moaned.
“Mm-hmm.” You moved your hips back and forth, slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him as he slid inside you.
TIg smirked and grabbed your hips tightly, and you knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow.
You slid your hips back, so only the tip of him rested inside you before you rolled your hips forwards once more and both of you moaned as every inch of him filled you.
“Ohh baby,” Tig moaned. 
“Shut up.” You ordered and slapped his hands away from your hips.
He raised an eyebrow but obeyed.
You grabbed his wrists and held them above his head, pinning them to the bed.
He licked his lips and breathed in your scent and you rolled your hips slowly against him once more before letting go of his wrists.
He didn’t try to move them and you sat straight, a soft moan escaping your lips at the change of position .
Tig eyed your bare chest hungrily, admiring the soft curves of your breasts and the small bite marks already bruising across them.
You leant back and placed your hands on his thighs before pulling your legs forward so you were squatting on top of him.
He growled in approval and you smirked as you pushed yourself up.
You hovered your body over his, teasing him with just his tip inside you.
His eyes were glued to your core, seeing your folds wrapped around the tip of his cock, dripping wiht your juices was driving him wild and if you didn’t start fucking him soon he was gonna have to take control.
Suddenly you slammed your body down, taking all of him inside you in one abrupt movement.
“Oh god baby,” Tig groaned, fighting hard not to move his hands.
You grinned and lifted your body up and down. Each movement brought you closer to the edge.
Tig could tell you were close and he couldn’t resist any longer.
He licked his thumb before pressing it against your clit and rubbing circles.
“Fuck, Tig!”
Your walls began to tighten around him and you were overcome with pleasure.
“Good girl, baby.”
You dropped to your elbows, either side of him as your body trembled around him, both of you moaning through your orgasms as he found his release.
Tig wrapped his arms around you, holding you to his chest as you both caught your breath.
After a few minutes you rolled off him and lay beside him, a thin layer of sweat coating both of your bodies.
You laid like that for a few minutes before you swung your legs off the bed and stood, shaking out your arms as you did.
“Well, that really was as fun as I remembered.” You walked around the room, picking up your scattered clothing.
“Im surprised you remember last time.” Tig laughed. “You were wasted, doll.”
You turned towards him and put your hands on your hips, a mock stern expression on your face.
“You takin advantage of drunk girls, Tiggy?”
“Please, if anything you took advantage of me.”
“Yeah, who could resist, huh?”
“I cant help that I was blessed with good looks, (y/n).”
You laughed and walked around the bed.
“I know, Tiggy. I know.” You leant down and kissed his lips before heading for the shower.
With your back turned, you didn’t notice the strange expression on his face.
When you returned to the room he was still in the same position; lying naked on the bed, a sheet draped loosely over him and a joint between his fingers.
You quickly dried off and pulled on your clothes, Tig watching you thoughtfully.
“You leaving?”
“Yeah,” You fished your shoes out from under the bed and tugged them on. “Dad wants to take me out for breakfast so I gotta get home before he gets there.”
“Why don’t you just go grab him, he’s in his dorm.”
“What?!” You turned to Tig.
“He crashed out last night.” He shrugged. “Old man cant handle his booze these days.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief.
“Jesus Christ, Tig! Why didn’t you say anything?!”
“Really, doll? You think your dads gonna recognise the sound of your moans?”
You swore steam was coming out of your ears and you were about to argue when he cracked a smile.
“Im just kidding baby. He went home last night.”
“I swear to God, Trager I am gonna kill you one of these days.” You fumed.
Tig frowned, still as casual as ever. “Then who are you gonna fuck?”
You laughed. “Thankfully theres plenty more dick in the world.”
Tig clutched his hand to his heart with mock hurt and you laughed again more leaning over him and pecking his lips.
“I’ll see you later?”
“I’ll be here.”
Tig watched you leave, checking the hallway was empty before sliding out of the room.

Tig laid there for several more moments before it became too cold to tolerate, and the joint in his hand was almost burnt out.
Goosebumps waved over his skin as a cool breeze wafted over his sweat covered body and he forced himself off the soft bed sheets.
He stubbed the remains of his joint out in the ashtray on his bedside table and headed for the shower.
Standing under the shower head, Tig let the steaming hot water wash away the scent of you. He closed his eyes and stepped under the stream. And as the water splashed his face and  flowed down his skin he thought back to the day you had come into his life.


The door had slammed and Tig had turned towards the door, only to see her marching into the room.
“Is my dad here?”
It was only Juice and himself in the room and Juice had turned his head to the side, a blank look on his face.
“He could be.” Tig said.
“I could be your daddy.” He licked his lips.
She raised her eyebrows and stared at him for a moment before turning to Juice.
“Is this guy serious?”
Juice had nodded. “Sadly, yeah.” He smiled apologetically.
She turned back to Tig and sighed.
“Is Bobby here?”
“Wait Bobbys your dad?” Juice had interrupted.
“(Y/n)? Long time no see!” Clays voice boomed through the room and you all turned to look at him.
She smiled at the familiar face and walked towards the President.
“Hey Clay, is dad here?”
“Hes in his dorm, sweetheart.”
She thanked him before heading down the hallway he had pointed to.
Tig and Juice were standing there, staring at Clay with confused looks on their faces.
“Dont even think about it.” Clay had warned before walking past them and heading into Chapel.

Tig had been very interesed in her sudden arrival and had finally learnt (thanks to Gemma) that she was, in fact, Bobbys daughter from a one night stand many years ago. Her mother had kept her a secret from her father for years before finally allowing them to meet once she was a teenager.
She had accepted the fact that her father hadn’t known of her existence and they had slowly built a relationship, despite her living out of town.
It was still unclear as to why she was in town, and Tig was interested in finding out. Or rather, he was interested in her.
She had spent the day with her father, but now the sun had set and she was still here, drinking at the bar with Juice, while Bobby talked club business with Clay.
Tig sauntered across the room and leant against the bar.
“Sorry about earlier, doll. I didn’t know who you were.”
She looked at him and smiled. “And who are you?”
“The man of your dreams.”Tig said.
Both her and Juice groaned, before she laughed loudly.
“Im Tig.”
“NIce to meet you, Tig. (y/n).”
She introduced herself with such charm, but it had been the mischievous glint in her eyes that had made Tigs interest peak.
Juice could sense it and he shook his head before standing. “Ill leave you to it. Nice to meet you, (y/n).”
She had waved goodbye to Juice and Tig had stepped around her and slid onto the barstool where Juice had sat.
“You look like someone who needs something a little more fun than..” He picked up her glass and tasted the drink. “Ugh what is this?”
He reached behind the bar and poured himself a shot.
“What makes you think I need more fun in my life?” She asked.
“Drinkin all alone on a friday night. All dressed up with no where to go.”
“I wasn’t alone, Juice was h-“
Tig raised a finger, hushing her.
“Shh shh Its okay, doll. Tiggy’s here now.”
She had raised her eyebrows but then she had laughed before she downed the rest of her drink.
“Well, Tiggy. I may be all dressed up but I got somewhere to go.”
“Oh and wheres that?”
She had smiled playfully before she had grabbed his shot glass and downed that too.
“Away from you.”
She placed the glass back on the bar and walked away.
Tig might have thought she wasn’t interested, had he not kept his eyes on her.
But luckily for him his eyes had followed you across the room, and he definitely did not miss the playful smile and the wink you threw him on the way.


Tig stepped out of the shower and dried himself before heading back into the room and climbing back into the bed. It was probably for the best that you had left, he thought.
He wasn’t used to sharing the bed anyway.
At least that was the excuse he gave himself as he drifted back to sleep.


Tig answered the door to find you leaning against the wall opposite his dorm room.
“Hey you.” You smiled seductively.
Tig smirked and stepped aside, allowing you to enter the room.
“Four nights in a row, huh?”
You rolled your eyes and walked past him into the room.
“Dont flatter yourself, Trager. Charming’s a boring town.”
Tig smirked and closed the door behind you.
“Thought you’d be watching Elvis performing at the Boulevard tonight.”
“Please, like I wanna see my dad in those outfits.” You sat on the bed and peeled off your shirt, exposing your bra. “Can we not talk about my dad?”
Tig chuckled and walked to stand in front of you.
He leant downed kissed your lips. “How bout we don’t talk at all?”
You reached for his shirt and pulled him down again. “I like the way you think.”
You kissed him hungrily and he reached down and lifted your legs, pushing you further up the bed and he hovered over you.
His hands moved up your thighs, caressing the soft curve of your ass cheeks. His lips stayed on yours, his tongue exploring his mouth but the usual hunger was lacking.
He kissed you slowly and deeply and pushed himself against your core.
You moaned and he pulled his lips away and kissed down your neck.
This time though, he didn’t bite you. He kissed you softly and sucked gently at your skin.
You bucked your hips, desperate for friction.
“Come on, Trager. I didn’t come here so you could make me come with kisses.” You whined, pushing yourself up to rub against his crotch.
“Patience, baby girl.” Tig hushed and kissed along your neck once more.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed, rolling the both of you till you sat in his lap and he was lying against the bed.
“Fuck your patience.” You kissed him hungrily and reached behind you to unclip your bra.
His hands roamed over your skin, holding your body close to his.
You pulled away from him and sat straight, unbuttoning his shirt with hurried fingers.
Tig lifted his hands to caress your breasts and you met his eye.
The gaze that met yours frightened you. You’d seen it before, only a couple of times but you knew what it was. It wasn’t a hunger, it wasn’t desire. it wasn’t just lust, there was a longing.. possibly even love?
You pushed the thought to the back of your mind and kissed him again. He rolled you over so he lay on top and this time you didn’t resist.
His hands moved to your jeans and he tugged them down your thighs, leaving only your panties.
Tig kissed you, with more passion than you had expected. It had been a long time since you’d felt such passion in a kiss and when he pulled his lips away to catch his breath he stayed close. His breath was on your lips and he rubbed his nose wth yours gently. You opened your eyes to meet those piercing blue eyes and you saw that same longing look once more.
You were quick to bring his lips to yours again and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. Your hands ran down his body and unbuckled his belt and his hand left your body long enough to push his jeans and his boxers down.
He Tugged your panties to the side and ran his thumb through your slick folds before lining himself up at your entrance.
He met your gaze as he pushed into you,causing you to gasp and when you saw that same look in his eyes you clutched yours shut.
Tig always felt so good inside you, stretching yu and pushing into you over and over.
The room was filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours and your moans and it wast long before waves of pleasure were rolling over you.
Yet every time you looked into those blue eyes as he pounded into you that same look was there, that same yearning. Like he was searching the very edges of your soul for some kind of connection.
The more you saw it, and he more you thought about it, the more uncomfortable it made you feel.
Until he pounded into you harder and your orgasm drove all those thoughts from your mind.

Tig brought the joint to his lips and watched you from his spot on the bed as you got dressed,
Like usual, you were quick to leave after your encounters. Normally that wouldn’t bother Tig, but with you he wouldn’t mind if you stayed, maybe just a little while longer.
“You going to Gems dinner tonight?”
You turned to look at Tig as you pulled your shirt over your head.
“Yeah, told her Id be there.”
“You can ride with me, I’ll pick you up.”
You raised your eyebrows. “And whats my dad gonna say when I turn up riding bitch with you?”
“Oh he wont be there.” He took a drag of his joint. “Clays sending him and Hap up to Tacoma to sort some business.”
“Oh,” You frowned. He hadn’t mentioned it to you yet. “I dunno, we should probably take seperate rides.”
Tig nodded. “Well maybe you could stay here after, since Bobbys gonna be outta town.”
You stopped what you were doing and sighed before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You know Im leaving soon, right?”
“Right, in a month or so.”
“No, Tiggy. Im leaving at the end if the week. Im going back home.”
Tigs heart sank and he took a long drag of the joint before stubbing it out in the ashtray.
“Guess we better make the most if our time then, huh doll?”
“I don’t think thats such a good idea.” You smiled sadly and looked down at your hands. “Maybe it’ll be best if we just stay friends- without the benefits.”
Tig frowned. “I thought were having fun.”
You stood and leant over him. “We were.”
You pressed your lips to his, kissing him deeply. You could taste him on your tongue and when you pulled away you stroked his cheek gently.
And just like that you turned and grabbed your bag before heading out of the room, without another glance.
The moment your lis had pressed against his Tig knew it was over. It wasn’t a ‘see you later’ kiss. It wasn’t a ‘thanks for the sex’ kiss. it wasn’t a ‘maybe one last time’ kiss.
It was a Goodbye kiss.
Tig sighed and rolled over, the memories of you beneath him taunting him, knowing he’d never see you like that again and the taste of your Goodbye still lingering on his lips.


@i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @danleto97

Look Into My Eyes

Pairings: Dean x sister!Reader, Sam x sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, drinking, swearing, kind of stalking (you’ll see), death of a major character

A/N: This is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s Danish Artists Challenge! This one was very different for me; it’s written in third person, and it’s a Winchesters x sister!Reader, which is something I haven’t really done before. However, I really enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy it too! The fic was inspired by the song. I chose not to put the lyrics in because I felt that it didn’t really work well.

Prompt: Look Into My Eyes: Outlandish


Dean found out that he had a little sister when he was 32. Dad was gone and Dean had finally brought himself to read the last few pages of his journal.

Once he read those words, he sprinted off to find Sammy at the library, shoving the leather-bound book in his face. “Look at what I just found,” Dean said to his younger brother.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he took the notebook from Dean’s hands. His eyes scanned over the words, realization crossing his face as he read.

The case they were supposed to be working on was set on the back burner for a moment.

“We have a little sister,” Sam said in disbelief. His head turned towards Dean, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Looks like you’re a big brother, Sammy,” Dean said, ruffling the younger man’s hair.

“It’s Sam,” he grumbled, fixing his hair. “We are going to find her, right?”

Dean sits down across from his brother, “Hell yeah we are.”

Sam smiles at his brother and Dean smiles back.

They were going to find their baby sister.

Keep reading

The Huntress.

Originally posted by disneyfeverdaily

Titled: ‘The Huntress.’ 

Pairing: Gaston x reader 

Word Count: 1,714 

Warnings: Gaston/Luke Evans feels, FLUFF, super angsty ending sorry not sorry, etc. 

A/N: This was a request from @brooke-supernatural16 : Can you do a one-shot with Gaston? Where the reader is a huntress and Gaston see the reader and instantly falls for her and follows her like he did with belle but is more polite with her?

A/N: I do hope this is what you were looking for in this fic! 

Tagging: @captainemwinchester @little-red-83 @impalaimagining@sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @hobbithorse19 @feelmyroarrrr @lefouismylife @redimagines @letowolfie @ciaprincess @speedycatbluebird @haniiix33 @mademoiselle-lani

    It was a crisp and French morning. The ground was wet with a fresh layer of dew. The sun had barely risen over the horizon. Twas a nearly perfect morning for a hunt. Gaston has his sights on his hunting musket centered in on an innocent and meek, deer. He was patiently awaiting for the correct moment to apply the right amount pressure on the trigger. 

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Bittersweet 16 | Rucas Oneshot

Prompt: I got requested to do a rucas au oneshot based on my favorite instant star episode awhile back as well as a different request to do another ‘Riley is Josh’s younger sister’ au so I decided to combine them lol. Hope that’s okay! 
A/N: Okay so like I said in this AU Riley is Josh’s little sister and Josh and Lucas (and Zay) are two years older. There’s an obvious connection between Riley and Lucas but he’s afraid to cross that line with her because of his relationship with her family and their minor age difference. Inspired by S01E08 of Instant Star.
Word Count: 6,336 (I’m sorry I don’t know why this is so long)

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“I can’t wait to see you either.” Riley smiled as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her best friend Isadora grinned at her from the other side of the couch before popping a handful of M&M’s into her mouth. She playfully kicked at the raven-haired girl who was now making kissing noises as she dragged out her goodbye over the phone. “Yeah, you too. Bye.”

The two girls shrieked in unison once the brunette hung up the phone. “Could it be the God’s are finally on my side?” She giggled, hopping up and down as she tried to contain her excitement. “I can’t believe I have my first serious boyfriend.”

“I can’t believe it’s Evan Carmichael.”  The bespectacled beauty teases, nudging her best friend. “Does this mean you’re over you know who?”

Riley waits a beat. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the mere mention of him. Isadora didn’t need to say his name for her to know exactly who she was talking about. Lucas Friar. He was two years older and best friends with her older brother Josh which meant he was off limits. Not that he was interested anyway.

The crush she had on him started way back in middle school but to him she would always just be his best friends little sister. She was just a dumb kid in his eyes despite their minor age difference. But none of that mattered now. She moved on, she was dating Evan now and was just 1 day shy of turning 16 and having the birthday party of her dreams. Things were finally starting to look up. She was happy.

“That’s in the past.” Riley assured her. “Besides, he made his feelings very clear.”

“That was 2 years ago, Bubbles.” Isadora gives her a pointed look. “Just because he saw you as a kid when you were 14 doesn’t meant he sees you that way now. People change. Feelings change.”

“Izzy, it doesn’t matter how long ago it was. Two years later and I’m still two years younger. I’ll always be two years younger. He’s 18, he’s a senior, I can’t expect him to want to be with someone who still has 2 more years to go before they graduate.” She knew it was the truth but that didn’t make it sting any less to hear it out loud. And even though it hurt, she made peace with his decision.  

Peace or no peace though, she couldn’t help but think back to that week…

Every year before the new school year began the Matthews family would rent a lake house up in Connecticut to celebrate labor day away from the hustle and bustle of New York City. Usually the trip only consisted of the 5 of them. Riley’s parents, her two brothers and herself of course. But the summer after Riley’s 14th birthday was different.

Her parents allowed each of their children to bring along 2 guests. Her younger brother Auggie brought his two friends Ava and Dewey and in true Joshua Matthews fashion wherever he went the other two musketeers, Lucas and Zay, followed.  

Even though her parents said she could bring two guests Riley knew the only person she felt comfortable enough to bring along with her was Isadora. She and Izzy became fast friends in elementary school and have been inseparable ever since. It was nice finding someone who got what it meant to be different and once they found each other they vowed never to let go.  

Because of her lack of friends and an open spot being available, Josh begged their parents to let his girlfriend, Maya, tag along. Her parents, feeling like there was an uneven amount of boys and girls, decides it’s a good idea and before they knew it they had a full house.

It wasn’t until that summer that Riley even thought she had a chance with Lucas in the first place. Yes, she had a school girl crush on the sandy haired boy but in her heart of hearts she never thought even for a second that he would reciprocate those feelings. Not until the lake that is.

Keep reading


Bruce had heard music coming from the studio earlier in the day. They had converted what his mother had always called “The Music Room,” laying down marley flooring, lining the walls with mirrors and barres. All for Cass.

The sun was setting and the house was quiet now: Alfred hadn’t returned from his errands yet and the winter day was quickly coming to a close.

Heading to his study, Bruce passed the studio and was surprised to see Cassandra lying on the floor. The lights weren’t on and the weak remaining sunlight left the room dim. He could hear the white noise of the stereo system, on but not playing anything.

“Cassandra?” he asked, confused, stepping onto the springy floor.

She was lying on her back, her legs stretched out long, with her arms crossed over her eyes and forehead. Her long-sleeved leotard and legwarmers couldn’t be much protection against the chill if she’d been still for very long. Cassandra didn’t move or respond; he saw her throat work as she swallowed.

Bruce crossed the floor in a few strides, only to stop short at the sight of her feet.

He opened his mouth to ask one of many questions, but said instead:

“Cass, you’ve bled through your shoes.”

She went through pointe shoes fairly quickly, they lasted several months depending on how many classes in a week she could attend. But this pairs’ usual wear, grey scuffs on the washed-out peach satin, was eclipsed by the dull brown patches of blood that had appeared in different spots on the toe of each shoe.

Bruce sat by her feet and watched her face for any signs of distress as he gently picked up the leg nearest to him. When she didn’t react, he prodded the ends of the laces out from their bundle on the inside of her ankle and began picking at the knot beneath it. Unwinding the laces revealed deep indentations. She didn’t move or make a sound as he carefully pulled the fitted shoe from her foot and began peeling sticky gel pads, and lambswool, and finally her convertible tights, back from the raw and bloody flesh of her toes.

It made him think of Cinderella’s stepsisters, the old versions, mutilated by their mother in an attempt to fit the slipper and win a throne.

He held her foot in his lap, lightly chafing the angry red marks left on her clammy skin by the laces and elastic band. Not rubbing hard or touching the open wounds. He could feel the barest tremor of her muscles that meant she was exhausted.

“Last night was hard,”

With her arms still crossed over her eyes, she spoke in a whisper.

Bruce hummed an acknowledgement and started on her other foot. Of all his children, Cass was the one he trusted most to patrol alone, though he didn’t like it. It meant he didn’t know when she had to see or do things that he would rather have shielded her from.

Finishing, he piled the bloody detritus of her shoes and padding to one side. As he gathered her up and stood, he felt more than heard a soft “oh!” escape her. He was glad she didn’t protest, even though his back did.

Carrying her to the door, he brushed a knuckle to the switch that cut power to the sound system.

“It helped,” she said from his shoulder.


“Not being a weapon, for a while.”


Also on AO3.