thirty shop

Hidden Behind Glasses (Zach Dempsey x Reader)

A/N: Sorry if this seems rushed.

Chapter Summary: You hangout with Hannah.

Originally posted by capuleht

Part 4

Y/N P.O.V.

Hannah picked you up at Monet’s.

She reached over the console center and pushed open your door.

“You didn’t show up.” You pouted, getting inside of the car and looking over to her.

You gasped, surprised. “And your hair! It’s so pretty.”

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You’ve Got Mail: An OQ AU

Robin Locksley is a small business owner, and Regina Mills is a corporate raider who has set her sights on his store–and both are completely unaware that they’re falling in love.

For @inutilidadesbytamara who AGES AGO requested a fic that was loosely based on the plot of You’ve Got Mail; and for @emmaswanchoosesyou who requested a fic in which love letters that Robin and Regina get mixed up with letters Ruby and Belle have been exchanging. 

Thanks to @lala-kate, @glindalovesshoes, @umbrellagates and @x-wishes-on-fallen-stars-x who all helped with this, in one way or another.

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lets go on dates and spend hours in a record shop
—  when i meet you
Out of the Frying Pan (35/?)

God, they even had to use a cart – the theme of this show was absurd. Emma tried to maneuver the thing around the corner of an aisle, wheels scraping painfully on the floor, the noise making her squeeze her eyes shut and that was a mistake.

She heard the sound of colliding carts before she felt it, arms shaking a bit as they desperately tried to hold on to her cart.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Emma mumbled, taking a step back and yanking the cart with her. And of course it was him.

Whatever, world.

AN: I just have to again say how much I appreciate the response to this story and how psyched you guys are about it and I make my husband read every single message like it’s show and tell. Honestly. @laurnorder makes this 800 times better and @distant-rose reads all my words and makes gorgeous aesthetics. They’re the best. 

Living it up on Ao3 & tag’ed up on Tumblr.

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give me thirty days (to fall in love with you)

author: kstorms

length: oneshot

word count: 9,714

rating: T

author’s summary:

“Hi! I’m Park Jimin!” when he gets no reaction, Jimin pushes on, a little hesitantly. “As in, your soulmate?”


Jimin meets his soulmate, and it doesn’t go the way he’s planned (nothing ever does, really).

read it on ao3

don’t forget to leave kudos & comments on the work!

anonymous asked:

On the one hand I love all the attention you get 'cause you deserve it! But on the other hand I'm jealous as fuck because I'm working so hard to create content and I'm getting better and better and nearly no one acknowledges it and it makes me want to quit, especially when I see people like you. I love your content and I love you because you are such a nice person but I'm also really, really jealous and I hate myself for it.

Dude :(. This ask makes me sad, but it’s mostly because I relate to it as well. 

Envy sucks. I know people like my content, I know some ask for it, yet compared to some of my friends here - it never feels like enough. Like I’m not working hard enough, trying hard enough, being good enough. I envy too. People like @funkzpiel @coffeesugarcream to name a few, because I know that I’ll never equate their level of writing with my own, even though I have made a lot of progress. I also envy those people on AO3 who just get the right idea and even though the writing is sloppy sometimes, they still get a lot of love and kudos and comments compared to some other writers who deserve the world and get barely anything in return. I’m not talking about me here; I’m talking about people like headbuttingbears on AO3, whose story reads so historically accurate it feels like you’re in it : New York in the thirties, with its shops and clothes and galas and slang; people like shionch , whose fic just feels so incredibly raw and vivid and real you want to meet the writer behind it to ask what happened to them; the characters so layered and human you feel overwhelmed by them when they’re just words on a screen. or people like @thepiperofhameln​, whose worldbuilding and pacing and character developement is astounding. I envy all those people, but I pluck from them. I read, I analyze, I wonder what makes it work so well, and I write and I keep trying and it is quite frankly exhausting. 

Envying other people and always wanting more than what you already have sucks, but it’s human. Just don’t let it eat you. I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure the content you put out there is worth gold.  

Anon Request: Imagine

Imagine Jared at the chemist/grocery store having to buy you(his girlfriend/fiance/wife) pads because you’ve got your period and ran out, but are in too much pain from cramps to go get them yourself

Groaning and moaning doesn’t make it better. It just allows you to express how much pain your in. You continue to moan into your pillow, shutting your eyes with every sharp shooting pain in your side. “Jared..” You yell weakly, as you bite into the white pillow. You’ve never heard yourself sound so helpless. You give it a couple of minutes, before you begin to hear someone coming up the stairs. The sound of the heavy heel on the wooden stairs is soothing to your sides, knowing that someone is coming. 

“Hey Babe” He walks in. Topless and wet. “Babe, it’s 6 in the morning and you’re moaning. You already want me?” He says cheekily, as he winks and reaches for his keys on the table beside the door. 

You ignore his remark “Jared I’m in so much pain.." 

Jared’s eye shoot right up at you

"What??” He says in almost a panic tone, as he rushes by your side. He begins to rub your stomach, clearly where the pain is as your top is lifted up over your belly as you push your fingers into him, praying for relief. “I’ve got my period. It hurts so fucking bad” you continue to moan. You doubt you even looked at him because of how much you were squinting and shutting your eye lids in hope that it will make the pain a little bearable. 

“Tell me what you need” He says as his fingers are still rubbing your stomach. His touch always made you better. 

“Just help me get to the bathroom please.” Without hesitation, he lifts you up off the bed delicately, afraid he might hurt you, and takes you over to the bathroom. As your feet hit the white tiles, you moan slightly at how the coldness under your body made the pain worse. “Aw honey..” Jared said, as you closed the door, he threw his back against it. 

Your ruffle through the cupboards “Oh shit!" 

"What’s wrong? Let me in!" As he opens the door afraid of what would be behind it, he leans down to your level as soon as the door is swung open, and begins to rub your back as you continue to look through the items. "I’ve run out of tampons.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just run out and get you some.” He smiled, as he placed a hand over yours. “Thanks sweetie” You give him a kiss on the cheek. “Now let’s get you back into bed”, as he lifts you up again, you place your head onto his chest, as you try your hardest to listen to his heart beat. You take in his fresh soapy scent. “Mmm” He smiles at your sound, knowing your in his comfort. 

“I’ll text you which ones I like.” You say, as he wraps you into bed, wrapping you like a burrito. He knew you loved that. As he kisses your forehead, he tells you to stay warm and in bed. He flicks the Tv on and promises to be back as soon as he could. He walks to the closet, picking out a black tee as he throws it over himself before looking at you. He rushes to the table and grabs his car keys. Before closing the door, whispering “I love you”. The pain is already getting better.



I love a good op shop / thrift store / charity shop adventure. My sister and I go as often as we can, even if it’s just to see all the strange and wonderful things that people donate or leave behind.

Whenever I am drawn to an item, it’s usually because I feel it would fit perfectly into my life. This little duck planter for instance, spoke to me! Just look at those beautiful pink, blue and yellow hues.

I swooped her up without hesitating and when I got her home I planted some fresh garlic chives in her planter space. The previous owner had glued up her drainage hole, so I had to get in there and pry it open again so water wouldn’t stagnate when watering the chives.

Til our next adventure!

Made with Instagram
Just Business (Part 1)

I’m sorry this took so long. April was a rough month for me. But look! It’s here! YAYYYY! And like was requested, its LONGGGGG. Admin R suggested that the characters be wealthy since it is another arranged marriage request and I went with it. I also managed to tie it in with Salted Caramel, which was fun.  Part 2:

You sat at the table drumming for fingers atop the glossy surface. You were clearly annoyed. You mother nudged you none too gently below what was visible above the table. You flinched at the blow delivered to your ribcage by her boney elbow. You forced a smile in reaction. Not that it mattered. What was planned for you was going to happen with or without your consent. The woman donning pearls and pink lipstick sitting across from you scrutinized you. You refused to squirm under her gaze. You couldn’t have her thinking that you were weak. Your life was in her hands.

You had been successfully sold. It seemed like your parents were quite the salespeople. They had managed to sell you to the highly esteemed Jung group. It was a brilliant move on your father’s part honestly. As the CEO of Black Coffee chain, he knew that he didn’t have much time left before his biggest investor pulled out. What better way to raise the value of stocks than a very public marriage to the largest coffee conglomerate in the country?

The only one who would suffer would be you. And possibly the Jung heir. But from what you heard, you doubted he would even care. He was rumored to be as ruthless as father, which meant that he likely had no heart. The marriage would be incredibly beneficial to him. He would gain all of Black Coffee’s international investors. Black Coffee would gain Jung Java’s high quality reputation in return. The bigger deal was that Jung Java was still very much a domestic company, so having foreign contacts would greatly help any thoughts of expansion abroad. Your coffee going from mediocre to first class didn’t hurt you either as the heir to Black Coffee. A merger would open many doors for you that would have otherwise remained locked. That didn’t mean that you approved though.

All your life you had been committed to all sorts of education; general studies, business administration, taekwondo, etiquette, etc. You had no option but to excel either. Your father had zero tolerance for anything beneath perfection and fear of his merciless punishments kept you up all night studying. Dating was something that only pretty girls in movies got to enjoy. Keeping your head above the sea of books that engulfed your room was your only goal. You didn’t have time to be in love. Not that you had many opportunity to meet guys anyways. Your parents kept you on a very short leash, putting you in an all-girls school and hiring only female teachers. It didn’t stop you from trying though.

The black belt that helped the masters in taekwondo lessons was cute. The intensity of the crush you had on him was no joke. Though, since you were always rushing home after class, you never got the chance to truly chat with him. The first time you felt actual resentment towards your parents came when you caught the cute black belt holding hands outside the weapons room with a white belt. You had since let it go, but you stayed away from romance. It would only get in the way. Black Coffee always came first. In the end, you would always be the one hurt.

Instead of enjoying your teenaged years like other girls, you had gotten a job in the public relations department of the company. Being of the target age group, your ideas were spot on and you managed to convince your superiors to allow you to spearhead a PR campaign to draw in more teenagers. It was a huge success and you quickly rose in rank, taking the seat of department head when the former head retired. Respect was easily yours, but love would likely never be. Not that you needed it. Project after project kept you busy and content. You were the manager of Black Coffee’s image after all.

And here you sat, your mother to your right and your future mother-in-law across from you. Not even the five star French food that you tried to swallow tasted good at the moment. You set your fork down and glanced at your watch. You were sure that your father, the Jung CEO, and Jung heir were still on the green, swinging expensive golf clubs around. You rolled your eyes before you were caught off guard by a photo being thrust in your face. You reeled backwards in surprise. Once you refocused on the image, you realized that it was of a trendy short wedding dress. You plastered a smile on your face and nodded politely as the Jung madam went on about a summer wedding. You resisted the urge to shudder. A summer wedding meant that your fate would be sealed in less than three months. You hadn’t even met the guy yet.


You aggressively pulled the covers over your chest and turned onto your side. The mothers had decided on the venue for the wedding that day at brunch. The rate at which everything was happening had your head spinning. It seemed like your father was quite impressed with the Jung heir as well. He raved about his accomplishments over dinner. You struggled not to tear your hair out as he went on about how this marriage was the best move he had made since buying that coffee shop thirty years ago. Your mother added how nice it would be to have the Jung family as in-laws. It seemed like no one cared that you were being treated like a pawn. Then again, when had you not been treated like a game piece?

You pressed the heels of your palms to your closed eyes to stop the tears you felt coming on. A few deep breaths calmed you down enough to reach for your phone. Everyone was so damn pleased with the Jung heir. Just how great was he? You tapped open a search engine and looked up the Jung family tree. The first article that popped up was about speculations of the future bride of Jung Java. You scoffed. So the media was playing guessing games now? You scrolled past to the second result. It was titled “Jung Java Heir Off The Market: The World Loses Another Hot Bachelor”. Hot bachelor, aye? You thought to yourself. You clicked on it. A picture of him preceded the text. You had to admit that he was pretty good looking. The image had clearly been taken from a photo shoot. His fair skin was a stark contrast from the dark hair that grazed his eyes. His eyes were staring straight at you with an intense stare, sharpened by the way his eyes dipped a bit in the inner corners. His lips and cheeks were full, which softened his otherwise harsh appearance. His face was small in comparison to his wide shoulders. You bit your lip. You hadn’t expected him to be this handsome. You attributed your unsettling attraction to him as the magic of photoshop.

Your plum-colored nails scraped across the screen as you continued to the content. “Leo.” You mumbled to yourself as you read. His name was Leo. The piece went on to describe the rumors circulating about his marriage and how the women of the world should mourn the loss of another hot rich man. You sneered. They could have him. You would love nothing more than to rid yourself of him. You sighed for the umpteenth time that day as you tossed your phone into the mess of your blankets. You were dreading your meeting with him tomorrow.


The clack of your heels was loud against the pavement as you stepped out of your car. You slammed the door shut and pushed your sunglasses up to the top of your head. The bright sunlight made you squint. You stood outside of one of your coffee shops and the pride that filled your chest when you saw how packed it was with the lunch rush pushed aside some of your worry. Despite the unfavorable circumstances that brought you here, the bustle of the store gave you a shred of happiness. It was a sign of your competence and that Black Coffee was still doing well.

A bell tinkled when you pulled the door open. The familiar scent of dark roast filled your nose and comforted you. A pretty boy in a fuzzy orange sweater greeted you cheerfully from behind the counter. Though it was busy, his welcome didn’t seem strained in the least. You made a mental note to look into whether or not he had an interest in climbing the corporate latter. He was manager material from that alone. Dealing with the lunch rush would drive anyone up the wall but he seemed legitimately happy to be there. You approached him, your heels even louder against the wooden floors. The boy gave you a genuine smile and if you weren’t a woman on a mission, you would have liquefied on the spot. You made sure not to smile too widely at his charming dimples. You peeked at his name tag. “Mr. Hongbin, could I please have two vanilla lattes?” You asked sweetly. “Sure, what size would you like?” He responded, his voice deeper than you thought it would be. Immediately, your mind was racing with thoughts of making him the face of the company. He was beautiful and his voice would be perfect for a mellow coffee commercial. Realizing that you weren’t here for work, you snapped back to reality and answered, “Medium, please.” “Coming right up!” He replied, not losing an ounce of his original brightness.

He turned around to get your order and you took the opportunity to lean your back against the counter, examining the shop. All seemed to be doing well. The floors were spotless, employees swept in to clean tables soon after people left, and most of all customers looked satisfied. The thud of the large industrial door to the kitchen closing caught your attention. What appeared to be the manager of the location had wandered behind the counter and froze when she laid eyes on you. “Hongbin-ah!” She called, but you quickly shushed her by putting the side of your index finger to your lips. Hongbin was startled by the manager’s sudden yelling and almost dropped the metal mixing cup he was holding. He stared at her, waiting for her to finish her scolding but it never came. Instead, she gave you a confused look. Hongbin glanced from her to you before shrugging and returning to what he was doing. You winked at the manager and made a motion of zipping your lips. She nodded hesitantly, not sure of your intentions, and moved to tend to the next customer. It was okay. She didn’t need to understand. No one needed to know who you were. You weren’t here to audit. Today you were a girl meeting a blind date in a coffee shop.

Hongbin returned with two lidded cups in hand. You grabbed some cash out of your purse. “If a man in a suit comes looking for a girl, could you direct him to me?” You requested as you forked over the bills. “Yes, ma’am.” He replied, giving you a cute little salute. You didn’t try to hide your grin this time. As you walked away, you couldn’t help imagining Hongbin featuring in a commercial with him sitting on white furniture with sunlight filtering over him and his voice delivering some warm message before taking a sip of coffee. If that didn’t bring in the girls, then you had no idea what would. You made your way to the two-seater in the back. It was far enough away from the storefront window where you wouldn’t have to worry about paparazzi.

You placed your purse and sunglasses down on the table next to the lattes before sliding into the seat facing forward. Leo’s face was more well-known, so it would be better if his back was to the window. You smirked to yourself. Even now, you were thinking about Black Coffee’s public image. It seemed that no matter what you did, work would always be on your mind. Maybe selling yourself for the sake of the business wasn’t such a ridiculous idea for you.

The cardboard cup was warm under your fingertips as you wrapped yours hands around it. You looked down into where the steam was escaping from the mouthpiece and questioned how you had come to this point. Your hair fell into your face a bit and you were tempted to just rest your forehead on the table. Your mother would slit your throat if you did. Thoughts of your mother had you sitting up straight and brushing your hair back into place with your fingers. You checked your watch. There was still a few more minutes until two. You mentally cursed yourself for being habitually early. You had nothing to do but sit there and stew in your nerves. It wasn’t like you were about to meet the man that you were going to marry. Or like you had the perfect view of the entrance. It didn’t help that every time the bell rang you instinctively looked at the door. Whose stupid idea was it to attach a bell to the door anyways? You paused. Oh, right. It was yours. It was supposed to allow the staff to welcome customers as soon as they walked in. If you could slap yourself without looking like a fool you would have.

It was at the point at which you were picking at your nails that he walked in. The bell rang and you looked up from your now frayed cuticles. He was wearing a suit just like you had predicted. You rolled your eyes. Typical businessman. Though, Leo had put a casual twist to the professional look by replacing the generic button down with a white v-neck under his blazer. His hair was longer and lighter than in the picture you had seen last night. But you could appreciate the way he had parted it slightly off center and added some texture to make it actually look stylish. You noticed how ridiculously tall he was as he approached Hongbin. Hongbin had towered over you and Leo’s height matched his. Leo’s limbs were thinner than Hongbin’s giving him a lanky look, but the breadth of his shoulders wasn’t some trick of good editing. You wanted to laugh out of disbelief for how good his proportions were. What, a shrewd future CEO and a model? It was laughable how perfect he seemed to be. You could only gape incredulously as he asked Hongbin if he had seen you and Hongbin gestured towards where you were sitting.

You tried to gather yourself as Leo’s eyes flickered to you and he drew closer. You were an educated beautiful woman. You were accomplished and witty. It would take more than a handsome, tall…rich…astute…You pinched your thigh under the table. You had to come back to your senses. You couldn’t let a man shake you.

Leo’s expression remained unreadable as he approached. You stood up and greeted him with well-bred manners. He responded in kind with a soft voice. You motioned for him to take a seat before sitting back down. “I got you a latte. I hope that’s okay.” You said, pointing at the cup in front of him. You thought you saw a slight smirk break through his poker face for a moment, but it passed so fast that it could have been your imagination. “Lattes are my favorite.” He said quietly. You couldn’t believe how gentle his voice was. Could he lead an army of employees with a voice like that? Maybe his stoniness balanced it out.

Leo took a sip of his drink and you did the same. The familiar taste loosened the ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach a touch. You’re your eyes snapped to his after you set your drink down again. His fierce look had the butterflies in your belly flapping away again. Why did he have to be so freaking attractive? You suppressed your nervousness and didn’t let your gaze waver. This man was going to be your husband and you weren’t going to give him an opening to let him get the upper hand.

It was a long moment before Leo broke the eye contact. He pointedly cleared his throat as he looked away. You bit down on your lip to stifle the leer that threatened to seat itself upon your face. You had won this round. An awkward silence fell over the two of you. Leo made no move to talk, so you took the initiative and cut to the chase. “What do you think of this whole thing?” He piqued an eyebrow at your forwardness. Though you were scared stiff on the inside, you had no time to play coy and shy. While you thought Leo was beyond gorgeous, he was also going to become your business partner. Work was something you took very seriously. You had to figure him out soon that you could calculate your next move to build your empire. Honest cooperation was the best route.

He exhaled slowly, as if it would buy him more time to contemplate his answer. “I’m fine with it. I think it’s a wise choice.” He finally replied. You nodded, expecting a logical response like that. It adequately answered the question without adding a shred of emotion. Very professional. But it wasn’t the answer you were looking for. “Is that your personal opinion?” You pressed and took another swig, your practiced deal-making confidence taking over. His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out your game. But you weren’t playing around. After realizing your seriousness, he scoffed. “What is it that you want to know?” He inquired with his lips hovering above the lid of his cup. His lips were pink and turned upwards at the corners like a cat’s.  They were incredibly distracting. You leaned forward. “I’m proposing that we be straightforward with each other. As I see it, we have nothing to gain from hiding things.”

He looked down, mulling over your words, before returning his attention to you. “I’m not hiding anything.” Leo said, making sure that his tone was calm and not defensive. If every conversation was going to require this much thought and cautiousness, you were sure that you were going to be miserable for the rest of your life. You let out an exasperated sigh and ungracefully leaned back again. Were you going to have to calculate every move you made at home too? You scowled and asked, “Will we be using separate beds?” He seemed taken aback by that. His eyes went a little wide before he remembered himself. He had made a huge mistake by letting you see him surprised. That was how your enemies got their foot in the door. Not that you were complaining. It could prove advantageous to you at some point later on. To think you could shake that stoic face with a reference to sex…

“Are you asking whether or not there will be a romantic aspect to our marriage?” Leo questioned. You gave him a thumbs up as you took a long draw of your coffee. The latte was making this whole uncomfortable conversation a little more bearable. He raked a hand through his hair. The extra muss only seemed to add to his appeal. He bit his lip before saying, “I’ve never been in love.” There, that was more like it. If you were going to have any sort of relationship with Leo, honesty was key. “Neither have I.” You responded with an outstretched hand. As Leo confusedly took it, you announced, “Business partners it is.”


You groaned before the remaining air in your lungs was forced out. You held onto the handles screwed into the wall for dear life. Though you had firmly planted the heels of your feet into the carpeted ground, you could still feel yourself being dragged backwards. You were sure that your spine was going to break.

You and Leo were at a bridal boutique selected by his mother to pick out outfits for the pre-wedding photo shoot. It had been a month since you had first met him and though you had grown closer through meetings on the merger, you had rarely spoke to him about anything other than the company. Just for show you would sometimes ask about each other’s parents. You had exchanged phone numbers but you still barely knew anything about the man. Maybe it was for the best. Caring about him would complicate things.

“Finished!” The employee called out after she had secured your bodice. You internally thanked God and stood up straight. You turned around to look in the mirror. The first dress was of your choosing. It was an off-white strapless trumpet shaped floor length gown. It hugged your curves in all the right places and was heavily embellished with beads and rhinestones. You were sure that it added fifty pounds to your weight, but it was beautiful. The sweetheart neckline toned down your broad shoulders and the tight corset cinched in your waist to give you a dramatic hourglass figure. The feel was a daringly sexy but still elegant. Though you weren’t normally very emotional, seeing yourself in a wedding dress seemed to shift things for you.

You were getting married in less than two months. You were getting married to a man who was colder than ice. You were getting married to a man who would probably never see you as a woman. You were about to hand the entirety of your life over to Black Coffee. You could no longer fantasize about a whirlwind romance distant from your life in ruthless commerce. You would go your whole life without ever being loved or getting a chance to love. What killed you the most was that no one even cared.The thoughts came without pause like a gushing river. Panic washed over you. The girl who had managed to squeeze your ribcage down by four centimeters discretely clipped a veil into your hair. You looked at your reflection. In that moment you knew that any hopes for your future had been obliterated.

Before you completely lost it, you stomped out of the dressing room. You tore through the hall and past the pedestal where you were supposed to stand so that they could draw back the curtain separating you and a waiting Leo for a theatrical reveal. You ripped the curtain out of your way and Leo glanced up at you from his phone. He had been waiting on the sofa nonchalantly in his baseline tux, barely interested in the whole procedure. You chest tightened as you paused for a moment, waiting for a reaction. When none came you felt something shatter internally. You knew that this was the end. There was no future besides Black Coffee for you.

Hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt your lip tremble a bit. You couldn’t stop the blurring of your vision and soon salty streaks stained your face. Leo was in no way prepared for your outburst but had enough sense to at least come to your side. The employees who had followed you out of the dressing room assumed that you were just overwhelmed by looking like a bride. The owner of the store ushered them back to give you some privacy. Feeling weak from the rush of emotions, you squatted down. Leo quickly knelt next to you. He checked to make sure everyone was out of earshot before whispering, “What’s wrong?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, which only served to make you feel worse knowing that there was no affection to the gesture. “I don’t think I can do this.” You sobbed.

anonymous asked:

#13 for Bokuto pls! :3

13. “I lost our baby.”

You walked into your home from grocery shopping, thirty minutes, you were gone for thirty minutes. Walking into the kitchen, you saw your husband Bokuto on his hands and knees looking under the couch. 

“Baby? What are you doing?” you asked slowly putting the grocery bags done. “Uhh, I lost our baby…” he said chuckling nervously. 

Blinking at him, you walked over and smacked the back of his head. “I wasn’t even gone for an hour and you somehow managed to lose Rin?” 

Seconds later a little girl came running from the bathroom. “Mommy!” the three year old yelled. 

Whatever she did in there, you’re cleaning it up.” you scolded him while picking her up.

“Y-yes ma'am” he said low and apologetic walking to the bathroom that was absolutely trashed. 

We Belong

Quick info - Reader is Charlie’s best friend and attending a Halloween party at the bunker. She’s trying to put together the perfect costume to attract the man she thinks she wants
Word Count - 2034
Pairing - Eventual Dean and Reader
Warning - A little bit of crushing disappointment that someone isn’t interested. Fluff

This is for Miami’s Gods and Monsters Challenge. I got Dean/Aphrodite/Prompt “Well…let’s never speak of this again…ever” Happy 21st @moonlitskinwalker

@supernaturallyfantastic @mojowoho @winchester11 @mojochester11 @tankcupcakes @frenchybell @wildtendermythologia @p-b-and-cas @babydanixox @charliebradbury1104 @samwinchesterondemonblood @imnotalosechester @mamaredd123 @nichelle-my-belle  @smoothdogsgirl @butiaintgonnaloveem @tree-of-blue-squirrel  @sdavid09 @ivonstiel @just-another-busy-fangirl @d-s-winchester @grace-for-sale


We Belong

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info: morgan landell. thirty-four. coffee shop owner, freelance digital animations artist. heterosexual heteromantic. dominant. nathaniel buzolic. (please note, sybill is 21 and clara is twenty)

              “….you one of clara’s friends? or sybill’s?” the male stifled a yawn as he looked upwards, squinted towards the overhead skylight that was currently letting in more sunlight than he’d expect this early in the morning. the male had come to find someone in already watching tv in the living room, neither of his sisters in sight. assuming it wasn’t a burglar, it had to be one of his little sisters’ friends. sybill and clara had been living with him since they were each eighteen, after all. having people over wasn’t exactly something strange when morgan let them practically live as roommates rather than younger siblings. “what time did you lot get in last night?”

anonymous asked:

I love your writing! Could you please do #63 with Credence? Thank you so much

Originally posted by hardyness

63: you deserve better

Pairing: Credence Barebone x reader
Warnings: mentions of abuse
Fandom: Fbawtft/Harry Potter

You and Credence always met once a week in your secret place, which happen to be an old book shop that was abandoned and forgotten about.

Today Credence was late for your meeting. Credence’s foster mother wasn’t a big fan of you so you two had to meet in secret. You figured he was just trying to sneak out without Mary Lou asking any questions and that was probably what was holding him up.

You pulled a book off one of the dusty shelves. Might as well sink into a novel while you waited. You had just reached page thirty one when the shop door opened with a creak. You jumped to your feet and called to your friend, your voice sounding quite joyful but when Credence came into view your emotions changed quickly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Credence wouldn’t look you in the eye but he was gripping his hand which gave you a clue to what the matter was. It was his adopted mother that kept him but not in the way you had suspected earlier.

“She did it again didn’t she” you whispered. Credence nodded slowly.
“May I see”.

The boy hesitated for a moment but eventually he extended his hand and you took hold of it softly. You ran your thumb along the fresh wounds and even though your touch was gentle Credence winced in pain at the contact. Your eyes filled with tears of rage as you stared at the marks of abuse. That woman went around preaching about witches yet she was the only wicked witch that you saw.

“You deserve better” you said letting go of his hand and wiping away your tears “someone needs to stop her”.

“It’s okay”.

“No it’s not!”.

“[Y/N] I’m going to able to leave soon” Credence informed. You tilted your head to the side in confusion. What was he talking about?
“I’m going to be able to join my real family soon” Credence said. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes but what he was saying wasn’t making any sense.

“I thought your mother died… Credence I don’t-”.

“I want to tell you all about it but Mr Graves… don’t worry you’ll understand soon”.

You wanted to question him more but it seemed whatever story he was refusing to tell you about was comforting him through this rough time so you kept your comments to yourself. Instead you gave your friend a smile and said.
“That’s good… if you ever need help though remember I’m there”.

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