these two sets of caps could keep me busy all day

RIP To My Youth

and you could call this the funeral

My first Jughead imagine, this is part one, if you guys enjoy it I’ll keep it going. 

Pairing: Jughead x Reader 

Description: Jug and the reader have been best friends since they were kids, but lately, things have changed, Riverdale has changed, Jug has changed and Y/N thinks maybe it’s time she changed too. 

Warnings: ANGST ANGST SO MUCH ANGST YO (maybe a couple o swears)

Word count: 2088

Part 2https://thatsadbreakfastclub.tumblr.com/post/158505761114/rip-to-my-youth-pt-2



It was getting to the point where I was having internal battles with myself every night. ‘Y/N he’s working on the novel and the newspaper, of course, it’s going to be harder for him to spend time with you’ versus ‘he’s moved on, he’s closer with Betty now, he and Archie are closer too, you’ve lost him, you’re irrelevant’. These were the thoughts that had been consuming my brain for the past couple of weeks. Jug was my best friend, right? Maybe I should text him? Maybe not. I started playing with my pale grey cap, my nervous tick of sorts. Jug could always tell when I was nervous because I would fiddle with the cap “Y/N” he’d say “spill it, you can’t hide anything from me, I can read you like an open book”. Thinking about this little memory was bittersweet. How can someone who’s practically by your side every day suddenly just have no real interest in talking to you? Ever since the murder of Jason Blossom, it really feels like everything in Riverdale has changed.

I glanced at my clock perched on my bedside table, 7:45 pm sigh. Maybe doing some homework will take my mind off all this bullshit, who’s idea was it to put me in advanced algebra anyway? Oh, that’s right my father, who I really wish was here right now and not away on some business trip. Tonight would have to be a lonely one. That’s when I remembered I had Jug’s math textbook, there it was sitting on my desk. I flipped it open and sure enough on the bottom left-hand corner was a small ‘property of Jughead Jones’. Perfect I could use this as an excuse to text him. 

Hey Jug, I forgot I had your math textbook? Want me to come drop it over? The two-hour wait to get a reply just built up more and more anger inside of me Hey Y/N, I’m working on an article with Betty right now, could you drop it off to me in the newsroom in free period tomorrow? This was it, this was fucking it, oh I would take his textbook to him tomorrow and I would also confront him about this whole thing, that’s what I’d do straight up ask him why I was suddenly dead weight, I’ve had his guys back for so many years and now I’m just nothing, I won’t have it. Will do I sent back, cool calm and collected and then I was going to give him a piece of my mind tomorrow.

Getting ready for school was never a difficult task for me, I pretty much did the same thing everyday. My Y/H/C was tied into a ponytail with the front strands falling onto my face framing it. I put on my classic ripped boyfriend jeans and a black t-shirt, accompanied by my army jacket. To finish off my classic look I added my signature grey cap and put on my favourite dark grey lipstick. I wasn’t the girliest of girls, that was for sure, but everyone seemed to identify me by my style and in this I found comfort. After giving myself the once over in the mirror I grabbed Jug’s textbook from my desk, shoving it into my bag and I set off for school.

The day dragged on and on, I had a tonne of classes with Kevin and Ronnie today so it was nice to hang out with them for a change. This was of course until Kevin pulled the “I haven’t seen you and Jughead together in a while, what happened you two are usually joined at the hip?” line “You guys are my otp, I hope there’s no trouble in paradise” Veronica added. “Ronnie we’re not dating, why does everyone always think that and honestly, I don’t know, I guess he’s been too busy with this whole novel and newspaper thing to remember me as well” I replied giving my best interpretation of a fake smile. Veronica and Kevin gave me sympathetic looks. 

As the bell rang, signaling our release I was packing my things together when Veronica grabbed my arm. “Y/N you need to tell Jug how you feel, I don’t know if you’ve even admitted it to yourself yet but it’s pretty obvious you’re in love with him, I can see how much not seeing him is hurting you and I think it’s best if you face this head on” I was so taken aback by this, I mean for years I’ve always had people ask if Jug and I were dating but no one had been this blatant with me. Was she right?, No he’s my best friend, I couldn’t be in love with him no way. I let out an awkward laugh “I don’t love Jughead, we’re just friends” It came out so defensive that Veronica raised both her eyebrows and folded her arms “the fact that you’re being so defensive about this just further proves my point” She said in a sing-song voice. “I gotta go Ronnie” I replied standing up from my seat and walking out the classroom “I only say this cause’ I care” she yelled after me.  

Making my way towards the newsroom, I’d never felt so nervous in my life, like get a grip girlie it was just your friend, surely this whole not speaking to me thing was just, not even a big deal and I was hyping it all up. I was still going to have a go at him though because he was angry when Archie ditched him and now he’s okay with doing it to me? Not on my watch.

I had the math book in my hand as I was walking up to the door of the newsroom, I had my best ‘pissed off face’ going on I was ready.

I had my hand almost on the doorknob when I took a quick glance through the doors glass window. That was when my stomach fell, my jaw dropped and my heart involuntarily shattered. It was just a glimpse that’s all I could allow myself to watch, but inside that dusty old newsroom was one Jughead Jones kissing Elizabeth Cooper. The feelings hit me like a truck, and then everything went numb.

I didn’t know what to do so without giving any sign I was there I dropped the math book and ran, I ran out of the school I ran past pops and all the way home. By this time the tears were free falling, I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t care. Once I was in the safety of being inside my house with the door locked I gave in to my emotions and just slid down to the floor.

Wow, I felt so stupid and so naive, why didn’t I see this coming, it all made perfect sense now. I guess this was me also coming to terms with the fact that as usual Ronnie was right, I was painfully in love with Jug and now I was too late to ever do anything about it.

The more I sat there and thought about it the more I came to realise that this was my fault. I held Jug up to this crazy high standard and just assumed it would always be him and me at the end of the day. I had sacrificed so much to hang out with him, to keep my “image”, I avoided making too many other friends, I avoided parties, extracurricular activities you name it I wasn’t a part of it. Now it was all going to change, it had to change. Maybe this was the wake-up call I needed. I had to work on myself, be better, be stronger. Most of all this needed to happen because this meant I could quite literally not be around Jughead anymore, I think seeing or talking to him would make me cry, something the new me will NOT be doing.

I picked myself up off the floor and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. “Get a grip Y/N, ” I told myself staring into the mirror. It’s like as soon as I come to terms with the feelings I think I may have had for years, I have to immediately try to get rid of them. I think this was a coping mechanism for me, and I think the reason I’ve never let myself admit that I had feelings for him before was because I fear rejection so much so very much, and I had to do what I knew would keep him around and that was to continue to be his friend. Well, little girl it’s time to grow up.

And what’s the best way to look more mature and confident, change your style. From what I’ve witnessed from the media, what you wear can have a profound impact on how people view you. This is what I had to do first, get rid of the “old me” look. This meant bye grey cap, bye dark lipstick ( I mean what was I even trying to do with that? Look like a corpse?) (oh wow corpse jokes really funny, maybe a bit too real in light of recent circumstances.) And also a very big goodbye to my jeans and army jacket, that would have to go too.

Looking through my closet it was apparent I didn’t have much to work with, I would definitely have to go shopping this weekend, I’ll bring Ronnie and Kevin along, they know fashion and are probably more than willing to help me out. AH HUH eureka! The dress I’ve been looking for! About two months ago I bought this really nice burgundy skater dress that I was planning to wear on a summer trip away, but when that got cancelled I never really had an excuse to wear it, until now. It showed a lot of leg, which I was surprisingly pretty comfortable with. The thought of people seeing me in this tomorrow made me feel a mixture of excitement and nausea.

The next thing that would change was the hair; no more would it be hidden by a cap and just randomly pulled back behind my face. I would wear it down and give it a curl. I think that would give me a nice elegant edge. God, I really don’t think anyone’s even going to recognise me tomorrow, kinda funny really. The next thing I had to do was go on to the school website and look for an extracurricular I would be willing to do. Hopefully, this would be a good way to make new friends and keep me busy.

I went and grabbed my laptop from my desk, as I did this I heard my phone vibrate, which meant I had a message. The name that made the screen light up made my heart skip a few beats, it was from Jug Hey, I just found my math book outside the newsroom? Why did you leave it there and not come inside? SIGH, reading that was like a knife to my chest, I immediately deleted the message, this may be immature but I needed time, I can’t bring myself to talk to him and if he can do it to me I can sure as hell do it to him. 

Shaking those thoughts away I was brought back to the task at hand. Logging onto the schools web page I found the list of extracurricular activities going on at Riverdale high. Chess club? Pass. Girl’s soccer? Hard pass.  Mathletes? No way in hell. Come on there has to be something here. After fifteen minutes of looking to no avail I scrolled past the extracurricular activities. Eventually I saw an ad posted by the she-devil herself Cheryl Blossom, apparently, one of the river vixens had broken her ankle and a new vixen was needed immediately, auditions were tomorrow after school. Hmm, could I do this? Maybe I could? The old me would never dream of being a cheerleader but the new me, maybe she could. You know what, fuck it. It was decided, I caught myself slightly smiling as I clicked ‘attend’ on the event. It felt like a breath of fresh air, tomorrow I would walk into school confident and new. I was going to cure my own broken heart. I just hoped a run in with Jughead wouldn’t make it all come crashing down.

Pink Love Potions - George Weasley

Prompt: Fred and George ask the reader to smell a love potion and when she can only associate the scent with George she refuses to tell them. 

Words: 3,259

Warning: None, fluff. 


“Y/n, our dearest darling friend, we’re in need of your assistance.” Peeking out from over your essay you found a set of two feet standing in front of you. There was no need to look up, your accusation was confirmed by the mismatched socks. The Weasley twins hardly sorted out their clothes and snagged the closest, cleanest smelling, item they could find and threw them on. Also over half their socks had holes in them causing their big toes to break free from the rest of their friends.

There was also the towering shadow that casted over you that gave away their identity as well. The boys beat you in height by a mile- or rather so at least a foot. If you walked by their side travailing to and from classes, you were jogging half the time and out of breath when reaching your destination. Not to say this was out of the ordinary or loathed, you enjoyed working overtime to keep up with the boys. Besides by the end of the day you had reached two days’ worth of cardio and were all set.

“Oh no. What have you two gotten yourself into now?” You rose an eyebrow at the pair. On look at them and there was no question about it, they were up to no good. George had his hands behind his back and look slightly bothered. You set your homework down on the table in front of you and went to ask him if he was alright but Fred started in instead.

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Colony Vs. The Tax Evaders for Freedom and Justice

This fills the tentacle square on my bingo card. 
Challenger @rose-on-the-mountain, who is also responsible for the Tax Evaders. 

I’m not sure if this will actually fit into the Happy Lights ‘verse, or if it’s just a fun sort of what-if scenario, but I hope you enjoy it!


“They call themselves The Tax Evaders for Freedom and Justice,” Steve explained. He rubbed at the center of his forehead. “They’re registered as a church.”

“That is a joke,” Tony insisted. “There’s no way that is actually not a joke.”

Steve shrugged helplessly. “That’s what the file says. They’ve recruited some B-list villains including… The Kangaroo, Asbestos Lady, and… Flag Smasher?” He was miserable just reading the names and pushed his tablet away so he could put his face in his palm.

“Wow,” Clint said, “You are a massive troll, Cap, but I don’t think even you could troll this hard. Why are we getting called for this one? Isn’t this something that the cops can handle? Or, you know… the local biker gang?”

“We don’t really have anything better to do at the moment,” Steve pointed out, “And it would be a good training exercise for our newest member.”

The colony didn’t quite understand the point of chairs, but it was trying to imitate its human colony members. Several of the larger tentacles were coiled around the empty chair at the briefing table, and the rest were spread out over and around the table to keep limbs wrapped around their humans. It was a small subcolony of only forty-seven members who had come back with ‘Steve Colony’ after their last trip to the colony homeworld, and looked intent on setting up a permanent colony presence.  

“Can’t we just sic the IRS on them? I mean…The Church of the Tax Evaders for Freedom and Justice. Really,” Clint persisted.

Think of it like a team building exercise, Tony suggested, and the colony lit up gold at his mental voice. I have new arrows for you to try out.

Sold! Clint agreed.

Sold! the colony repeated, flickering through a quick rainbow of colors, and then asked, Sold?

The colony did not understand currency, and the last time Tony had tried to explain the concepts of buying and selling, they’d ended up in a circular loop of Why? for most of the night. About the only thing the colony had been attracted to during the conversation was Tony unleashing financial ‘logic’ into the colony mindspace. It was a good thing they weren’t interested in using the colony’s understanding of math to their own benefit, because they could just about take over the world with only minimal effort and the colony’s help.

Let’s not start that conversation again, Bruce pleaded. “Asbestos Lady?”

Steve checked the notes. He grimaced, but offered, “Apparently she’s fire-proof?”

“And dying of asbestos poisoning?” Sam guessed. His chair was conspicuously tentacle-free, but he had his head propped up on one fist and was casually petting the magenta tentacle that had wrapped around his water glass, the end periscoped up to eye level and nuzzling against his fingers. It flickered gold and the colony was suffused with a definite sense of smugness at the attention. “Has the colony been cleared to leave the tower?”

“Technically or theoretically?” Tony asked innocently. He was completely bound to his chair by a dozen thick loops and being towed around the table at the colony’s leisure.

Sam hastily held up a hand. “I don’t even want to know. Plausible deniability is a thing.”

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I love you, Jughead Jones

 Anon prompt: “can i request something like reader has been bestfriends with jughead forever, reader was there through jellybean and jughead’s mom leaving and every other dramatic thing, and reader falls in love with him but sees that he’s with betty? thanks!”


A/N: Most definitely this is a song based fic, the title is a song by Nevershoutnever
called “I love you more than you will ever know.” From this point on I’ll be writing all future fics in first person. 


I had been friends with Jughead Jones for ten (10) years, three (3) months and twenty-two (22) days. 
We were in the same pre-school class together, we’d shared lunch and talked about our favourite books. 
Our friendship was strong, it was like diamond in some circumstances; nothing could break us. 

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The Lucky One Pt 3

Characters: reader, James (Bucky), OC Caleb, OC Marjorie (reader’s mother), mention of OC Kevin Jenkins.

Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

Warnings: mostly fluff, a lil angst.

Word Count: 2554

Tags at the bottom 

A/N: This fic was originally for Stark’s Tower Movie Challenge ( @hunters-from-stark-tower ). I hoped to have another part or two finished by the deadline, but life happens. :) I’ve based this fic on the movie/book “The Lucky One”. I’m really enjoying fleshing out this story and putting my own spin on it! I hope you agree. Please let me know your thoughts! 

<<<Part Two   Part Three   Part Four>>> 

The Lucky One Masterlist

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Originally posted by dailyevanstan

Previously:

You heard the stable doors sliding shut, breaking you from your reverie. James closed the padlock around the chain and handed the keys to you.

“Thank you,” you responded, throat still a little thick with emotion.

“He’ll be okay,” James assured you. “Caleb. You’re doing right by him, I don’t doubt that.”

“I appreciate that. Have a good night, James,” you said with a sniffle. 

A generous smile touched his lips, this time even reaching his stunning blue eyes.  

“Good night, Y/N,” he echoed before walking away.

_______________

The rest of the week, James continued to be the perfect employee. He came early to start any repair projects he saw, fed the horses, mucked out the stalls, hauled bales of hay, and did all of it without complaint. Most days you had to remind him to take a lunch break and when to stop at the end of the day. You wondered if he actually even had an off switch. Around noon, when reminded, he would disappear for that hour for the first few days, but by the end of the week he was bringing a lunch of his own and would spend time with the horses. You could tell he was more comfortable around them and that fact made you oddly happy.

One evening after work was done for the day and James had gone home, you were sitting on your porch with your mother beside you. Caleb was laying on a blanket with his sketchbook, perfectly content. As the sun set and darkness rose slowly, you saw a figure walk past on the main road. It was James walking back from town with what looked like at least 5 grocery bags in his left hand and 3 or 4 planks of wood over his right shoulder. Quite the load to carry over such a long distance, although come to think of it, you weren’t sure where he was staying since there wasn’t much past your stables for miles.

Curiosity got the better of you so the next day, after discussing the training and feeding schedule, you breeched the subject.

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Seventeen Performance Unit Lip Balm Reaction

I came out with the hip-hop unit version of this yesterday or the day before and someone asked for the performance unit, so how could I refuse! So here you go, thanks for requesting <3 This is the performance unit reacting to you getting a tasty new lip balm.

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Hoshi: Raspberry Pomegranate

“It looks great, Hosh!” You called to your boyfriend across the practice room. You were working on your laptop, watching him while he practiced. He looked at you in the mirror while he went to turn the music off and take a break with you. When he walked over to you, he lifted the laptop off of your legs, placed it on the floor next to you, and helped lift you up by your hands before wrapping you up in a tight hug. He leaned out of the hug to kiss you, but when he pulled away, he looked at you in amazement.

“Did you drink a smoothie?” You furrow your eyebrows at the strange question.

“No, why?” He glances back down at your lips, and kisses you again, still sporting the same confused look. Then he does it again, and again.

“Hosh, what?” You ask, a little confused by his actions.

“You taste like a smoothie.” He marveled at your lips as realization dawned on you.
“Ooooh, Hoshi, that’s my new lip balm!” You laughed at him. “Is it okay?” He looked at you in mock deliberation, before leaning in to kiss you again and then turning to walk away.

“Yep.”

Jun: Cotton Candy

You walked beside Jun back to the dorm from picking up a couple of groceries for the boys, you carrying one bag, him carrying the other. You were glad to go with him, you liked spending time with him. You liked it a lot. In fact, neither of you had really made a move, but you had a feeling that the feeling was mutual. However, you weren’t sure if you should just sit around and wait for him to make the first move, but you also didn’t want to pressure him with his busy schedule, so you weren’t sure how to go about it.

“You okay?” His voice brought you back to reality.

“huh?”

“What were you thinking about?” He let out a breathy snort of a laugh as you were startled out of your trance.

“Oh. Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“yeah.” You assured him as you pulled your lip balm out to smear some on your lips, less because your lips were dry and more because it was a mindless thing you did to distract yourself from his questioning. Little did you know he was staring at you the whole time you did it. As you returned the cap to its place and put it back in your purse, Jun took up a new line of questioning.

“What’s that?” You looked at him a little incredulously. What did it look like?

“Lip balm.”

“Is it flavored?” You were a little confused as to where this was going, but you saw a little twinkle in his eye that made you want to answer him.

“Yeah, why?” You looked at him a little suspiciously but with a small, almost imperceptible smirk ornamenting your features. He noticed it. He stopped walking.

“Can I taste it?” Your eyes went wide in realization, and you stuttered incomprehensibly, completely flustered and unsure of what to say. He dropped the bag he was carrying and whispered as took your face in his hands to pull you up to him.

“You’re too cute.” And at that he crashed his lips onto yours. Stroking your cheek with his thumb, he moved his lips over yours firmly and passionately, and reached down to drop the bag from your hands, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers into his soft chestnut locks. He snaked his arms all the way around your lower back and pulled you up to him even further. When the two of you broke the kiss, he kept holding you against him as he grinned widely.

“You taste as sweet as you look.” He said in a singsong voice just oozing with flirtatiousness, Earning a smack on the chest from you before you two resumed your walk back to dorms hand in hand.

Dino: Pear

You and dino were at the park on an early spring Sunday afternoon, just talking work. He was excited about a new choreo, you were finally making friends with the girl who sat at a desk near you, things like that. Watching as dogs ran their owners around and kids frolicked on swing sets and slides, you both sat on a bench, just enjoying each other’s company and the beautiful day. You pulled out your lip balm and spread it on your lips. He pointed out a couple of particularly adorable kids on the playground, earning a giggle from you followed by a peck on the lips. He leaned into you a little, making the kiss last a little longer than just the intended peck, not that you were complaining. After you two pulled away, he laughed a little and looked at his lap before moving his gaze back to the playground.

“What?” You wondered about his laugh. He looks over at you biting his lip to control his smile.

“You taste like pears.” He replied. You crinkled your nose at him cutely and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“It’s my new lip balm. I’ll keep wearing it.” You spoke softly as he took hold of your hand and started playing with your fingers.

The8: Blueberry

“Thanks for watching this with me.” You looked up at your boyfriend with adoration and he looked down at you with the same as he fiddled with your fingers on the couch in your living room. The beginning of Ariel was playing on the tv, and you had your knees curled up in front of you as you leaned on Minhao’s shoulder. You reached up to slide your fingers around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss as thanks for spending the evening with you, and he complied readily, kissing you back gently and sweetly. When you pulled away, you noticed a generous dusting of pink in his cheeks as he avoided your eyes.

“What?” You looked at him quizzically. For the most part, you’d gotten past the awkward phase, so he usually only responded shyly when other people were around.

“Nothing.” He lied, clearly.

“No, what?” You giggled at his cute behavior. He buried his face in your neck and you laced your fingers through his hair to massage his scalp as your heart melted a little. After a couple moments of this, he responded.

“I… think I could taste your lip balm.” He mutters, barely audible as he pushes his nose into your neck even more, causing you to laugh.

“Was it okay?” You checked with him, wanting to know how he felt about it. He reached his hand out to rest on your waste.

“I liked it…” You could practically feel the heat emanating from his cheeks and it brought a smile to your face.

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Hope you liked it! I’m completely open to requests, so if you want to see anything else from me then just lemme know.

Secret is Out: Part 5

AN: I decided to spend a bit of time away from the Batfamily to see how the rest of our favorite heroes are coping. So have some Barry Allen.

Prompt: What happens when secret identities are taken away from every DC superhero?

Words: 899

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4


“They’re still out there.”

    “Yep.”

    “My boss has sent me twenty emails.”

    “Probably wants to know why you’re not at work.”

    You smile at your husband, “No, she wants to know if you’ll come to her daughter’s birthday party.”

    When Barry bursts out laughing, you can’t help but smile for real. He’s been so quiet since the secret identities have been leaked. It scares you. Your Barry is always smiling, and talking. He’s always holding you or trying to touch you in some way; from wrapping an arm around your waist to holding your hand. In the past several days he had barely left his lab.

    Walking away from the window and to your husband, you crawl into his lap. “So what’s the plan Flash?”

    He pulls you in close, and kisses the top of your head. “I don’t know Y/N, we could always go live on the station. You’d be safe up there.”

    You turn in Barry’s arms, so that you’re straddling his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. It’s a long and slow kiss. When you pull away you’re both breathless. You lean your forehead against his and say, “Barry we can’t live in fear.”

    His hold on you tightens, “Y/N every single enemy I have ever made knows who I am now. Knows who you are, and what you mean to me. If they go after you, if they hurt you …”

    You kiss his nose, “Barry Allen, I love you with everything I have, but we can’t live in fear.”

    Barry slumps back into the seat, “Are you sure about that? I’m fairly sure we can come up with some sort of business we can run from space.” You shake your head, and he sort of just groans. “What do you suggest?”

    You smile, and take his hand, “Let’s go out.”

    His eyes go wide, “Where the sharks are?”

    You kiss his nose, and say, “Superspeed, remember.”

    He just smiles, and the next moment you’re outside in Central City’s main park. Just as quickly you realize that your hair is now up, a ball cap is on your head, and sunglasses are tinting the sun.

    You glance over at your husband, “Wow, no fake nose or mustache?”

Barry just smiles and wiggles his eyebrows at you, before he sticks out his hand. You take it without hesitation. You get two wonderful, uninterrupted hours before Barry’s cellphone goes off.

“It’s CCPD.”

The phone rings again, and you smile, “We have to live Barry.”

He smiles before answering the phone and saying, “Allen.”

He listens for just a moment before hanging up. “They need me at a crime scene.”

You hold out your arms, and he raises an eyebrow in question. You smile and say, “Don’t you know, it’s take your wife to work day.”

Barry just laughs and then he’s running. It takes all of five seconds for the two of you to arrive. All eyes are immediately on you. You squeeze Barry’s hand once for support. He gives you a small smile before disappearing and then reappearing with his CSI kit. You watch with interest as he sets to work, and after a few minutes you realize everyone else is as well. All the cops are watching him as well.

As the news cameras show up, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders. You smile at Joe, as he tosses head to the side, and leads you away from the crowds. The two of you slide into his car, and wait for Barry.

There’s a moment of silence before your father-in-law asks, “How’s our boy doing?”

You watch your husband through the windshield, “He’s worrying. You know Barry, he likes to worry. He was talking about living up on the station.”

“That surprises you? He called me, and begged me to not leave the house, begged me to convince Wally to take online classes.”

You bite your lip, “He’s terrified to lose someone else Joe. To be honest, I can’t really blame him.”

The back door of the car opens, and Barry slides in before you can say anything else. “Captain radioed in, he wants everyone … especially me, back at the station.”

Joe just nods, and flips the sirens on before pulling into traffic. When you reach the station, there are tons of paparazzi waiting. You turn to look at Barry, and he gives you a small smile, “I guess I can’t keep running.”

“Not from this.”

With a deep breath he opens the door and steps out. The flashes are nearly blinding, but they don’t seem to affect Barry. He shields you the best he can, as he helps you out of the car. He stays to one side while Joe stays to the other.

It reminds you of a mob scene as reporters reach out and try to grab Barry. He shrugs them off, but his arm tightens around you. Then there are more bodies between you and them, as cops swarm from the building. They create a path, and Barry rushes you forward.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as the door closes behind you. Then you realize all eyes are on you and Barry. As the captain steps forward, you feel Barry tense, and then he says, “Allen you’re the freaking Flash, how the hell are you always late?”

▶ 2. adoration [ m ]

Originally posted by jungkooksarms


▶   Genre: Smut. (Werewolf!BTS)
▶   Description: It’s possibly the worst time to forget to lock the doors; Namjoon’s in heat.
▶   Word count: 7,099. 
▶   Author’s note: WHAT HAVE I JUST WRITTEN.


Jin taps his foot impatiently, his eyes simultaneously jumping from the clock and then back down to his younger, Jungkook.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mumbles, reaching for Jin’s arm before pulling away in fear he might jump if he were to touch him. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Jin responds with a deadly glare over in Jungkook’s direction, his fists balled up, just about ready to strike.

“She’s probably just working a little late or something,” Yoongi adds, really paying no attention to the elder besides him.

“I’ve never seen you get like this, hyung.” Taehyung chuckles, flipping over onto his back to relieve some of the discomfort brought on by laying on his front.

Jin scans the room again, noticing that the other two boys, Hoseok and Jimin, were indeed there but, to his surprise, Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Jin asks dangerously, anxiously popping up from his seat next to Jungkook and running over to the bathroom door. His hand almost magnetizes towards the handle, forcibly opening the door and scanning the dark and empty inside.

“He’s not here, hyung.” Hoseok grumbles with an intonation of annoyance in his voice, plopping down right onto Taehyung’s outstretched legs, a bowl of ice cream in hand. “Do you really not remember?”

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12x10

Yep, another picspam review. I mean, with this episode, how could I not? I was broken for a full two days, so of course it warrants me repeatedly smashing my face into the keyboard… which is pretty much what this entire post is. Face smashes and screencaps. (And boy howdy, do I mean screencaps. There’s a LOT. *rolls around in all of the caps*)

I actually did not have all that much time to get online yesterday, so this time around I don’t believe I’ll be unintentionally quoting any of you guys. \o/

First, I will share this… I get my legal digital copies from Google Play (I have Android everything, including a fucking television that’s running Android… of course I use Google Play and also ‘cuz fuck a whole lot iTunes). Someone at Google knows exactly what they’re doing because THIS is the picture they decided to use as the thumbnail of this episode. And I am DYING because this exact moment is when Cas says, “get out” and Sam is just staring like, “omg mental note do not fuck with Cas right now.”

Yah, that’s perfect. YOCKEY: I am Cas. Get the fuck out, you broke me. I am also Sam. I cannot believe you just did that jesus fuck.

(Side note: that picture is taken with my Android phone of my Android TV.)

That said.

Number of Obligatory Dean Wall Slams: TWOOOOO!!! Yockey, you speak to my heart.

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William Nylander - Part 3

Tumblr won’t let me add a picture and I’m kinda pissed…. JK fixed it 

I wake in the morning feeling like train wreck. When I stumble into the bathroom I’m surprised to see that I can see out of both of my eyes, though one is completely black and purple. The swelling has seemed to go down quite a bit from when I went to bed and I breathe a sigh of relief. Not that I have anyone to look good for, but I don’t exactly want to be scared to look in the mirror every day.

               Letting the hot water from my shower wash off the remaining dried blood and I’ll admit, a few tears from last night. Nathan had been all over me like a mother hen, insisting that he stay the night in case something happened and when I in turn asked him what he thought could possibly happen he couldn’t think of a scenario. So Rian has shooed both him and Jake off before they could even walk inside the front door. She had been able to convince me to stay at my parent’s house with her, saying that she wanted to keep an eye on me but I really knew it was because she didn’t like staying in the house on her own. Our parents weren’t due to come home from their anniversary cruise until next week Monday and it was only Wednesday.

               I dress myself, careful when I pull my shirt on to not rip my stitches and make my way downstairs. Rian is already up and about to go out the door to head to school.

               “I was going to wake you, but thought better,” she says and eyes my face. “Balance the black on your other eye and you could make a good living as a hooker.” She smirks at me.

               I throw her a filthy look. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?” I huff back at her, making my way into the kitchen.

               “Yes, actually. But I wanted to see your face when I tell you this,” she says following after me and I frown at her.

               “Tell me what?” I ask slowly.

               “That you’re an internet meme now,” she looks overly happy and I tense.

               “What?” I ask, my voice much louder than I intended.

               “Someone at the game took a picture of the jumbrotron and you giving a thumbs up with a mangled face. Now people are posting those pictures with the clinche caption of how tough hockey fans are and all that,” she rolls her eyes and I relax.

               “Oh, then that’s not so bad,” I say and dig through the cupboards for something to eat.

               “You also might want to check your phone,” Rian adds, a devilish grin on her face when I turn to look at her. “See you later,” she says and skips out the door.

               I stare after her a moment and then make a mad dash to my coat hanging in the hallway where my phone is still resting. Swiping the screen on my stomach drops, there’s over five hundred notifications from all my social media apps and text messages.

               “How can people possibly know who I am? I got hit in the face with a puck!” I yell out loud into the empty house. Groaning, I start going through the follow requests and mentions, getting annoyed after thirty seconds and just changing my settings to that anyone can follow me instead. That takes away over three hundred of the notifications.

               Scrolling through the messages I ignore most of them from people I haven’t talked to in months. Both Jake and Nathan texted me this morning asking how I feel and I respond to them and them only. None of my friends that don’t watch hockey haven’t said a single thing to me so I know that it’s not as big a deal as Rian made it sound like.

               I mute my phone and get set on my bowl of cereal and think about what I’m going to do today. Working as an editor for a publishing company, I’m able to work from home most days and today will be no different. Cleaning up after myself I get my car keys and head back to my apartment downtown. I keep my hat down low on my head when I sneak into my favorite coffee shop and no one gives me a second glance. I hurry across the street to my apartment and breathe a sigh of relief when I get into the elevator.

               Kota is waiting for me at the door, meowing like she’s been starved to death. I fill her bowl that wasn’t even empty while she preys on my foot, thinking she’s the almighty queen of the apartment. I force myself to walk into my home office, the stack of manuscripts on my desk is intimidating and I grimace as I sit down and pull on my glasses carefully. Before the headache can even have a chance to start, I reach into the desk drawer and down a few pain meds. Always good to be prepared.

               Four hours later a ding on my phone nearly makes me fall out of my seat. I place the highlighter and pen on to the desk beside the thriller manuscript I had been pouring over all morning, yellow and red marks all over the sheet glare up at me. Picking up my phone I see a message from Rian.

               Half day today. Ready for pizza?

               I glance at the clock and cringe at the time.

               Give me fifteen minutes

               Another manuscript get the better of you?

               Always

               See you in a few

               Kk

               I scramble from my chair, Kota startles and sprints across the room sending toys and papers alike scattering across the floor. Giggling, I make my way into my room and strip down from my comfy clothes and into something that makes me look a little less homeless. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and groan.

Having forgotten the black eye and angry red stitches, I reach for another ball cap and pull the bill down as far as I can. It doesn’t help much but I don’t dare to even try and put makeup over it. Maybe we can get a table in the back corner.

               I meet Rian in the parking lot and to my dismay the place looks packed.

               “Why are there so many people here? Don’t they have jobs?” I grumble and Rian laughs.

               “You have a job and you’re here,” she smirks at me, her eyes traveling to my bruised cheek. “Not gonna lie, you look pretty badass in your whole ensemble.” She gestures with her hands to the rest of my outfit and I realize that I put on all black, even my coat. “I’m loving the whole dark energy thing.”

               I roll my eyes at her and push her through the front door. While there are a lot of cars in the parking lot, there are still several empty tables and I’m grateful when the hostess leads us to one in a secluded corner. I pick up the menu although I don’t know why, I get the same thing every time I’m here. Rian does the same thing and we laugh at each other.

               “Remember when dad used to take us here when mom would go out of town. Literally every night she was gone this was our dinner,” she smiles down at her menu, tracing the restaurants logo that sits in the top right corner.  

               “Yeah, I do,” I smile as the memories as well. “Carson and Logan annoying us to death with their spit ball wars.”

               “I miss them, I hate that their camp is two weeks long. When I went it was only a week,” she pouts and I have to laugh.

               “I thought the same thing when you went, they will be back soon. And then you’ll be calling me begging to come over so you can get away from the twelve year old devils,” I say and she nods.

               “True, but I still miss them. The house feels so empty without them and mom and dad gone. I might go insane before Monday,” she replies, tracing her finger along the condensation on her glass of lemonade.

               “See, when I was home alone like you, I loved it. No one to annoy me or take my things without asking.” Rian scowls at me for that one. “It was nice, but I loved it even more when you all came home,” I add and wink at her, she softens her scowl.

               “I guess that’s the difference between you and I. You’re Miss. Independent and I’m the exact opposite. I don’t think I could live alone like you do, work at home like you do… I wouldn’t be able to function.”

               “I have Kota,” I argue and she gives me a look. “Hey! She’s a person too, just because she can’t talk doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings.”

               “Oh my God, my sister is already a crazy cat lady,” Rian says, rubbing her face with her hands and I roll my eyes. Her eyes dart to the side of me and widen slightly.

               “What are you looking at?” I ask her, preparing to turn around when she shakes her head.

               “Nothing, thought for a moment I left my straightener on at home,” she says, busying herself with her lemonade.

               I eye her blonde locks, perfect spiral curls going every direction. “Funny your straightener would be on when you wouldn’t have used it.” I quirk an eyebrow at her as her cheeks flush. Lucky for her, the waitress arrives again to take our order.

               After the waitress leaves I forget about the straightener and excuse myself to the bathroom. I keep my head low as I pass by the booths and tables, both when I head towards the bathroom and when I’m returning. I glance up to make sure I’m in the right line of booths when I notice that Rian traded seats with me.

               “What are you doing?” I ask her, pausing at the side of the table and eyeing her.

               “I wanted to watch the T.V,” she says nonchalantly, sipping her beverage though she never looks at me.

               I sit down slowly, still eyeing her. “You don’t like UFC fighting…” I say and she blushes again.

               “Well then maybe I thought you would enjoy the view sitting there,” she whispers, a smirk playing on her lips as she glances down from the T.V for only a second.

               “What are you talking about?” I ask and lift my eyes to gaze around, I don’t see a single T.V and the decorations are just that, decorations. It isn’t until I lower my eyes to the large table beside us do I realize what she meant. Oh God. I pull the hat down even lower and drop my eyes back to my empty plate. “Rian, switch back with me,” I plead in a whisper.

               “Nope,” Rian responds, not bothering to look down from the T.V again. “I’m good here.”

               “Rian, I swear to God if you don’t switch with me right now-“

               “What? What are you going to do?”

               I hesitate. “Cry.”

               Rian snorts a laugh. “No you won’t, I haven’t seen you cry since we watched Marley and Me six years ago.”

               I pout and dare to peek up at the table to my left. Big mistake. My eyes meet those blue ones again and I shiver. A smile flashes across his face before he looks back at one of his teammates.

               “So, what did you see?” Rian asks, trying and failing to keep the smile off her face and I aim a nice kick to the shins under the table. She jerks in her seat, hitting the table with her arm and causing the whole thing to tremble. Another mistake. I can feel the eyes of the table beside us.

               “God, I hate when you do that!” She snaps, rubbing her leg with her hand and glaring at me.

               I give her my biggest smile and flutter my eyelashes. “Do what?” I ask.

               Rian throws another look my way before our waitress returns with our pizza. All fighting is set aside as we devour the pizza with our eyes, still too warm to eat.

               We each have four slices a piece and I lean back in my seat when I finally gulp down my last bite. I let out a satisfied sigh and wish nothing more than to take a nap right there.

               I open my eyes to say something to Rian but my attention is caught once again to the other table. Will is immersed in the plate before him, shoveling food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in a week. A faint smile pulls at my lips I continue to watch him, he doesn’t seem to notice until an arm nudges his side and when I look over at who the arm belongs to, I meet the eyes of another player, Morgan Rielly. He nods at me before I can look away and when Will looks in my direction I flush crimson and stare at my glass. Mortified.

               “I think I’m going to go the bathroom,” Rian says, oblivious to what just happened and I give her panicked look.

               “What? No, don’t leave me here alone!” I whisper quickly and she looks at me like I’m crazy.

               “You’ll be fine,” she says and slides out of her booth.

               “Rian, no!” I say, willing her to sit back down. She gives me one last confused look and walks past me towards the other side of the restaurant where the bathrooms are. “I have no sister!” I whisper and I think I see a faint hint of a smile before she’s out of my view.

               Turning back in my seat so I’m once again facing my empty plate, I try very hard to regulate my breathing. I can hear the faint conversation of the boys at the next table and I reach for my phone. My only distraction. I scroll for a moment until I feel the gaze to my left again. Pressing my lips together I tense, I can just barely see him to the side, my eyes still focused on the screen though I’m not reading a single thing. I see him stand slowly and say something to Morgan.

               Oh no. Please no. Will takes a step towards me and I stop breathing. I keep my eyes down even when he reaches the side of my table, his gaze hot on my face and I know I’m the color of the cherry red booth I’m sitting on.

               “Mind if I sit for a moment?” Will asks and I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out. I can’t even look at him. Instead I slowly nod my head and put my phone down on the table.

               He moves into the booth and my eyes go his hands folded in front of him on the table.

               “How’s the head?” He asks and finally I’m able to look up.

               “It’s okay,” I answer, searching his face for the other question that he seems to be holding back on.

               “Good, it doesn’t look too bad,” he says, his eyes trailing up and down the side of my face.

               “Too bad?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

               “I didn’t mean it like that!” He says hurriedly. “I mean that I figured your eye would be pretty much swollen shut is all.” Will smiles at me and I just stare back.

               “What are you doing here?” I ask him after a moment and he frowns. “Didn’t think pizza was exactly the meal a hockey player has the night before a game.”

               Will’s eyes dart back and forth between mine, fumbling for an answer. “Because you said you would be here.” He says finally and I’m floored by his honesty.

               “What?” I stammer.

               “You asked your sister last night if you could come here today,” he says slowly and I remember the elevator ride.

               “So… you wanted to check up on me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and he blushes. I hate how adorable it looks.

               “Maybe.” Is all he says and we sit in silence for another few seconds.

               “And that was it?” I ask again, pulling my glass closer to me and trailing my fingers along the lip slowly, concentrating on the shapes instead of his face.

               He watches for another few seconds, not looking up at me when he answers. “Maybe not.”

               “So, what else could there possibly be?”

               He hesitates again and fidgets slightly in his seat. I make him nervous. “I kinda wanted to make it up to you, somehow,” he finally says and I halt my finger on my glass, my eyes flashing to his.

               “What?” I ask dumbly.

               “What can I do to make it up to you?” He asks and his blue eyes overwhelm my own and I have no idea what to say.

               “Tell you what,” he says after a beat. “I’ll give you my number, and when you think of something. You let me know.” Without waiting for a response, he reaches across the table and grabs my phone. When he sees that he needs a passcode to unlock it, he reaches back across for my hand. He gently slides my hand across the table, pressing my thumb to the home button and I let him. Will opens my contacts and adds his own in before sliding it back across the table to me.

               “Hopefully you let me know sooner rather than later,” he whispers, slowly sliding out of the booth just as my sister reappears in the corner of my eye. Will smiles at her and nods before flashing his eyes back to me, winking before he turns and returns to his own table where several of his teammates are staring.

               I blink several times and finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Rian sits back down across from me, pressing her lips together.

               “So, what did I miss?” She asks after a moment and I laugh.

               “Not much.”

milk ; min yoongi

➮ for: the birthday girl (aka me)

➮ genre: fluff

➮ summary: yoongi works in a grocery store, and meets Y/N because she spills milk.

➮ hey, it’s my birthday so i decided to write this for myself! i hope you like it, i really do.

masterlist


The lights were dim as they had just flickered on from a night of rest, and only one set were on. A tired young adult stepped out from the back and turned to the store. Outside, it was still dark and he could feel the need for sleep draining him worse than other days.

Insomnia had gotten him this job. They needed someone to open and he was the best for it. He could be up by four AM, take a shower and make his way over to set up at five-thirty, opening right at six. No one dared come in before though.

Min Yoongi, the morning staff, was a terrifying man, barely anyone came in when he was on shift by himself. Before, there were two guys in the morning but as business started to slow down Yoongi was the only one left.

The next to come in was at ten.

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Hatchling

Day One

Gotta do this for two weeks right? Let’s get this show on the road.

(I better edit this before I turn it in.)

I’m naming my ‘baby’ Tabitha. She’s two ounces in weight. I might be crocheting her a hat. Her shell is a pale white, and I hope I can raise her well enough so she grows up well-adjusted and with a solid start in life… or at least well enough so I get an A on this project.

She’s sleeping beside me, close to the lamp but like not RIGHT beneath it, I’m making sure she won’t be too warm. Her matchbox bed’s super cute too, I doodled little pink flowers on it with my highlighter. It might just be a fucking egg but I gotta take care of it, right?

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Keep Your Hands Off My Girl

A part of the drabble series When Two Worlds Collide for the 500 Followers Celebration. 

(gifs aren’t mine)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Chris Evans

Summary: Feeling threatened by the presence of his doppelgänger, Steve decided to change in order to get your attention.  

A/N: This is the first installment of the drabble series I’ll be doing for the next 5 days. The series will take place in the same time and setting as Double Take. Also, this one is a tiiiiny bit long. 

DRABBLE MASTERLIST

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Stressed Out

(Taking place in @skiretehfox‘s Twenty One Pirates LIS AU.  If you want to see more of my work, check it out at @philwritesstuff)

Bzzzzzz!

Max barely felt the vibration of her phone in her shaking hands, and it took a few seconds for her to register that it had buzzed at all.  The dressing room was empty save her and Chloe, and she wondered through an anxiety-clouded mind if she should bother checking it or just leave it for after the show.  What if it was an emergency?  What if they had to cancel the show?  What would Lost Hope think of losing their headliners on the last night?

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Art Lover

Requested by @a-girl-who-loves-disneyHi Meg! May I request a Steve Rogers x fem!reader? Tony invites the avengers to an art gala of one of his friends. Steve is immediately excited for it (he is an artist so of course he appreciates it :) While at the gala, Steve finds the pieces to be absolutely amazing. Later, Tony introduces everyone (Steve, in particular) to the reader who is the artist being featured. Tony mentions to her that Steve is an artist and she quickly starts talking art with him. Lots of fluff, please! :) 

Here you go, lovely! I do not own Steve or Tony. They belong to Marvel. 

Warnings: Fluff, all the fluff

Pairings: Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Tony Stark. 

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

Steve’s ears perked up at the words “art exhibit”. Anyone who knew Steve knew that he was an artist and that he loved to look at the work of other artists. Tony had just invited the whole team to an art gala by a local artist who just happened to be a friend of his. “She’s pretty nervous about it, so I told her I’d be there, for moral support. I also told her that I’d invite all of you,” Tony was saying, but Steve had already made up his mind. He was definitely going to go. 

               A week later, Steve climbed into the limo with the rest of the team, dressed in nice slacks and his blue button up that Natasha had insisted he wear. Since it was the gala of a local artist, there was no need to wear an expensive tux, for which Steve was grateful. He gave a shy wave to the paparazzi standing outside before quickly making his way inside. “Sorry about that. Apparently someone let slip we were coming,” Tony explained, but Steve wasn’t paying attention.

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Asgardian Valentine // Thor x Reader

Pairing: Thor x Reader (POC), Slight Winter/Widow and Scarlett/Vision, Bonus Steve, Tony, Bruce, Pietro and Sam.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Warning: Super cute Valentines fluff, pls enjoy this holiday fluff.
Summary: Despite not being one to celebrate the holiday, Reader is a big help to the others. Vision still can’t cook by himself. Pietro is precious. Feelings are hard. Thor is a sweet giant dork, pass it on.  

A/N: Okay I was really inspired to write this because I don’t see a lot of Thor fics (that aren’t Loki centered) and the LOML needs more love ya know? Also look a that gif. Look at him. I love him send help. 

Inspiration: “Roses” ~ Shawn Mendes
“You can tell me to stop if you already know
Though I’m not sure my heart can take it
But the look on your face says don’t let me go

And I have to be honest with you baby
Tell me if I’m wrong and this is crazy
But I got you this rose and I need to know
Will you let it die or let it go?”

Originally posted by theplacewheredreamsgo

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Make it Black

Joyce kept an eye on the clock as she wiped down the main counter. It was already ten minutes past closing time. The grime and filth of a busy Friday clung to her skin uncomfortably and she wanted nothing more than to get home, curl up with David, and take a nice, long bath.

Though luck was never with her as the quiet yet persistent voice of a downpour hummed through the building. All she had to protect her from the rain was an eight year old umbrella that turned inside out when the wind got too rough. David was also working overtime at the docks, meaning she was going to have to wait by the bus stop and pray it would get there on time. She hated working overtime, but they were barely meeting ends—if they didn’t pay soon, their power was going to get cut off.

The clink of the doorbell followed by the squishing noise of wet shoes let her know she had forgotten to lock up. “We’re closed,” she said, frowning at a particularly stubborn stain on the countertop.

“Sorry.” The voice was young, with an odd nasal inflection to it. That got her to look up.

It was a teenager, probably no older than her daughter, completely soaked from the rain. A sopping mop of curly blond hair hung just over his eyebrows, dripping down his cheeks and onto a worn sweatshirt. His nose and the tips of his ears were red and blotchy, and he was holding his lower lip between his teeth, trying to keep them from chattering. But what really got Joyce’s attention was the dark, swollen bruise over his right eye and the bloody corner of his upper lip.

He was turning away, gaze directed towards his shoes. The sight broke her heart. “Stop,” she said, and the boy did, sparing her a guarded glance. Joyce didn’t know who he was or what happened, if it was a abuse or a scrap, but he was just a kid. Marks like that didn’t belong on a teenager, no matter the circumstances. She couldn’t turn him away. “Would you like some coffee?” She asked. He nodded. “Take a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He chose a barstool, and sat hunched over the counter. His focus on a lone string poking out of his sleeve. His hands shook, she noticed. But she wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or something else.

“Cream and sugar?” Joyce called from the kitchen window, her hands busy pouring a cup. He nodded again.

It was a soft tanned color, more milk than caffeine, but what was important was that it was warm. She set the mug in front of him, watching as his trembling fingers closed around it. He took a sip and grimaced—a slight pinching of his nose, something most people wouldn’t notice—but otherwise didn’t complain.

“Here’s the menu, let me know if you want anything,” she told him.

He nodded, again. Not much of a talker. His eyes settled on an enhanced photograph of a stack of waffles. He licked his lips and pointed at it, not bothering to look at the rest of the items. “Waffles,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “The belgian waffles.”

It amused Joyce that he would order breakfast so late at night, but who was she to deny him. She gave him a smirk and took his order into the kitchen. The cooks had already left, leaving her to be the only employee in the building. Though not a chef, she was an adept cook and set out to make the kid some waffles.

When she was done, she topped them off with blueberries on top, and brought the steaming plate to the counter. She could see him practically drooling at the sight. “Whipped cream?” Joyce asked, brandishing the can.

“Yeah,” he said.

Rather than do a simple swirl on the top, as was customary, Joyce drew a smiley face. It ran the risk of the teenager frowning and saying something about how he was too old for smiley faces, like Chloe would, but to her surprise she found the boy smiling at it. It was subtle, a slight upturn of the lips that would probably crack painfully due to the lip, but it was a smile nonetheless.

The way he ate was, well, exactly how you’d expect a teenager to eat. It was messy, and loud, and Joyce suspected he hadn’t eaten anything the whole day. That brought her attention back to the black eye and swollen lip, and she wondered if he really hadn’t.

Joyce grabbed a rag from her apron and began scrubbing the areas where his shaking had spilled drops of coffee onto the counter. “What’s your name?” She asked, casually, she hoped. It was like she had hit the pause button—he froze suddenly, fork hovering in the air in front of him.

She didn’t push. It was his right whether he wanted to tell her or not, and she wasn’t going to pry into his private life if he didn’t want her to. She kept wiping down the counter, gauging his reactions from the corner of her eye.

He set his fork down slowly. His gaze went from her, to the waffles, to back at her, like he was debating whether to tell her or not. Joyce waited patiently, keeping to herself in silence. In the end, he swallowed, rose his nose up and said, “Nathan Prescott.”

Oh. She knew he was watching for a reaction and she did her best to maintain a poker face. The Prescotts had the kind of reputation that would last generations. Engraved in the name itself. Animosity that was inherited by your parents, which were inherited by their parents, and so on so forth. Joyce would also admit to sharing that prejudice.

But he was just a teenager. A black eye and a bruised lip didn’t belong on a teenager.

“You can call me Joyce,” she answered with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Nathan.”

She could see the relief flood in his eyes. It hit her, then, that he wasn’t used to a warm reception after sharing his name. Talking to him was easy after that. Just smalltalk, nothing important. She talked about her daughter, about David, she even mentioned William for a brief moment, before she caught herself choking up and changed the subject to the busy day she’d had. Nathan wouldn’t say much more than one worded responses, but it kept his mind occupied as he finished his waffles, and Joyce could tell he appreciated it.

By the end of the night, his skin had gotten a healthy blush and his eyes looked brighter. The weather outside cleared up too; the downpour had lightened to a slight drizzle. Nathan’s calm expression quickly changed to one of horror when he felt around his pockets and realized they were empty. “I don’t have my wallet,” he told her. “But I’m good for it, I swear.”

Joyce suspected as much from any teenager caught in the rain in the middle of the night. “Don’t worry about it, hun. It’s on the house.”

“I’ll pay you back,” he insisted. Joyce didn’t argue, only told him to do as he wished.

As he left the diner she silently prayed that he would find a safe way home.


Saturdays were the worst. Joyce wasn’t against hard work, but she could feel the blisters forming in her feet and couldn’t find five minutes to sit down. But, she was used to it. The tips were good, at least.

They were up to their eyeballs in orders, and, to make matters worse, one of the coffee machines gave out, which meant Joyce had to walk to the other side of the kitchen to refill. She couldn’t keep herself from glancing at her watch every five minutes, watching the hand inch ever so slowly to her lunch hour.

She was bringing a customer his order for breakfast when he said, “Whose ass have you been kissing lately, Joyce?”

“What are you talking about?” She asked, already used to the coarse language the truckers and sailors would have.

Another customer whistled in appreciation and Joyce was about to tell him off, until she realized that he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking past her, at her tip jar. It was full to the brim with—oh my goodness—twenty dollar bills? Among all the bills was a crumpled up piece of notebook paper.

The truckers whistled and cheered as she worked to unscrew the cap. “Who’s yer secret admirer?” One asked.

She fished out the note and unraveled it. There were only two words written in a messy, jagged script. “Thank you.” She smiled and the truckers cooed.

“None of your damn business,” she answered, slapping one playfully in the arm.

She managed to pay the bills that month.



A/N Merry Christmas! I know this isn’t much or Christmas-themed or anything, but I wanted to write how Nathan and Joyce met in Exposure. I know this won’t make up for the lack of recent updates but I hope you enjoy it all the same! :*

Leo Valdez X Reader - So Many Things

Word Count: 1230

Summary: There were so many different things that Leo Valdez did with you that made you all happy and giddy inside. Here are 5 of the weirdly adorable things.


Number 1 - When Leo Would Surprise You With A Random Trinket:

“….And I really have no clue why he would think that I of all people would-” Your sister stopped speaking. “(Y/N), your boyfriend’s coming over. Like, he’s running over here frantically. He really is an idiot, isn’t he?” You rolled your eyes at her, spinning around.

“Yes, but he’s my idiot.” You walked over to meet Leo halfway, and he immediately encased you in a hug. He pulled away and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before holding something out to you.

“For you, my love,” he said with the cheesiest British accent a person could manage. You stifled a laugh and took the object.

“Thanks, Leo, it’s a really nice… uh…” You moved the object around in your hands, trying to find out what it was. Finally, your fingers brushed over a little button-like part, so you pressed it. Up popped a picture of the two of you. How he got such a thing, you had no clue, since you had never once posed for a picture with Leo. But he did, and it was beautiful. “Gods, Leo, this is amazing.”

Leo was smiling a huge smile. “I know. I call it the Valdezacator 2.0.” You closed it back up and gave Leo a big hug.

“You’re an idiot.”

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