this was supposed to look a lot better but life is full of disappointments

anonymous asked:

so...a Victuuri version of that Adam Scott, Mark Hamill clip needs to happen y/y?

“38.7 million views in 24 hours. Do you know what that means? You beat Adele. You beat the Avengers. You beat that Psy video where he wears harem pants and pushes people off treadmills. You are in a very exclusive club, my friend.”

The audience laughs, and Yuuri should laugh too, but Kerry Washington’s skin is perfect and he can’t stop staring. And her teeth are so white that they don’t even look like teeth. It’s like when he was writing his thesis and spent so much time staring at the opening sentence of the discussion section that he had to check four times to make sure he spelled “the” right. There’s a name for that sort of brain malfunction, but hell if he knows what it is. 

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Winchester’s Don’t Take Orders

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader

Summary: After a tough hunt, an argument ensues

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: A little angst, light swearing, otherwise justsome fluff I guess

A/N: Thanks to @nickiwinchester97 for helping me and sending me to bed. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Originally posted by canonspngifs

You were finally back at the motel. The hunt had been exhausting and more difficult than expected, and even though you’d been successful, you and your brothers were in a bad mood. 

“Guys, I’m starving.” Sam announced while Dean let himself fall face front into one of the beds.

“Me too” you replied, extending your hand towards Dean for the car keys. “I can get some Burgers and stuff at the diner down the road.”

Instead of handing you the keys, Dean grumbled and stood up again. “There’s no way I’ll let you drive baby. I can go and get food.”

“What?” you asked a little bit confused. You’d driven the Impala before, Dean had taught you and you’ve also got your driver’s license. Something about his tone was provoking you.

“What’s wrong with you? So you don’t even trust me enough to let me drive the damn car?”

“Yeah, I don’t. Why should I? On the hunt you didn’t even stay back when I asked you too. How the hell am I supposed to trust you then?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. Anger started to float through you and you tried to let it cover up the pain you felt at Dean’s words.

“Of course I didn’t stay back when that thing was coming at you from behind. Should I just have let you die?”

“No, goddammit! You should’ve done what I said. We had everything under control, Sam would have gotten it. But thanks to you, it didn’t work out, and now he’s hurt!”

Dean gesticulated towards his younger brother who was sitting at the small table, carefully stitching up a cut on his left arm.

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I should probably warn you that: 1. The idea is very old; 2. I mostly write stuff so I can push character limits, and here I clearly pushed too hard. Basically, expect lots of OOC.

Title: Think Before You Speak

Fandom: MommaCQ (belongs to @alainaprana)

Wordcount: 983

Warnings: OOC; mentions of injury and hospitalization; blatant angst.

Summary: Error hates the hospital.

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Everything Has Changed - Part Two | Jughead Jones

Originally posted by purple-pizzaprincess

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: After finally coming face to face with Jughead after six years you don’t get the reception you’d exactly wanted.

Warnings: #angstyjughead

Word Count: 2162

A/N: I am sorry this is so long, omg. I tried to cut it down but I don’t want to rush straight into everything because I know personally I like seeing things progress and stuff, y’know. BUT ANYWAY. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think <3


It felt like time had come to a stand still as you stared across from each other. Six years. That’s how long it had been since you’d laid eyes on each other. By sheer coincidence you’d sat yourself down next to the person you’d been looking forward to seeing for all those years. He was so different yet the more you looked at him, the more you saw that he was still Jughead. He was still that boy that had made your childhood years the best they possibly could be. All you wanted to do was speak and say something but nothing came to mind. What were you even supposed to say to someone you hadn’t seen in six years? A simple hello definitely wouldn’t suffice. Thankfully for you Jughead was the first to speak up, his voice so quiet you barely caught it.

“You still have it,” he stated, his eyes locked back onto your necklace. Out of habit, your hand went to grip the little crown as you moved your gaze to glance at it too then back up to Jughead.

“Yeah. I… haven’t taken it since the day you gave me it.” Admitting that might have sounded really lame to some people but it meant the world to you. It was the one thing you had left to remind you of him and your past life in Riverdale.

For a moment you were sure you saw the hints of a smile forming on his face. He looked away from the necklace back up to you. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

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betsforsythetrash  asked:

Could you write something where F.P. is in Bughead's lives in the future? Like clean, sober, doting Dad helping plan the wedding or dancing with Betty at their reception or BABYSITTING their child or something? (:

Not gonna lie, I got ridiculously carried away with this, I literally just sat for ages and wrote it all in one go! I was gonna post this tomorrow but I’m too impatient so here you go :)

Thank you so much for the prompt, clearly I had some FP family feels I needed to get out <3

Jughead wasn’t sure why he’d come. Maybe it was because he knew that this time was different. His dad, though perpetually drunk, could usually take care of himself. It was a rare instance when he rang his son, babbling incoherently on the line about how he was sorry, that he couldn’t do this anymore. But that’s exactly what had happened tonight, which was why Jughead was currently making his way up the steps of FP’s trailer at 2AM on a Thursday.

“Dad?” he called out in trepidation, peering around the room at the mess of empty bottles and stale takeout cartons. A groan rang out from the kitchen to his left. Rounding the corner he found his dad, hunched against the cabinets on the floor, broken glass surrounding him, sticky amber liquid pouring out from what remained of the whiskey bottle, blood quickly soaking the fabric of his shirt from the gash in his hand. “Jesus, Dad.” Jughead crouched to get a closer look, tilting FP’s head to meet his foggy, unfocused eyes. He sighed, turning to his hand, picking up the heavy limb and examining the wound. “It’s not that deep, hold on.” He straightened up, searching the draws for a clean dishtowel to wrap around the wound while he cleaned up as best he could. He’d brushed up most of the glass when he realised it would be better to move his dad out of the way if he was going to get this done more efficiently. The smell of alcohol was starting to burn his nose. Jughead flung open a window before reaching down to pick up his dad, staggering against the dead weight that now bore across his shoulders. He dropped him into a nearby chair with a groan, placing a glass of water in front of him before turning back to the task at hand.

FP watched him with dazed eyes, head lolling slightly, blinking slowly as if he were insurmountably tired. Jughead tried not to feel the weight of his gaze burning into the back of his head as he swept, grabbing a mop to tackle the next mess. He was filling up the bucket with warm water when FP finally spoke.

“’m sorry, Jug.” The words were barely defined. Jughead scoffed, slamming the tap off and rested his hands against the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white with the strain.

“Why do you keep saying that?” he bit out. FP blanched at the venom in his son’s voice, one that he hadn’t heard before. Disappointment, sure. Weariness, definitely. But this? Never. “You don’t mean it, you never mean it. If you were sorry you wouldn’t keep doing it over and over.” FP hung his head in shame. “Did you even try? Did you even pretend, to yourself, that this time it could be different?” Jughead turned finally to look at his broken mess of a father. His eyes were hard, fed up of being forgiving. “I can’t believe another one of your empty promises.” He tried to keep the crack out of his voice.

“This time…” FP trailed off, voice drowsy. “You’re mom, Jellybean…” The sound of Jughead slamming a fist against the counter echoed throughout the trailer.

“Stop!” he shouted, tucking his quivering lower lip between his teeth, willing the tears away. He didn’t want to cry over this anymore. It was beyond repair, beyond redemption. “I can’t hold on to this hope, anymore. I’m sixteen, Dad. This isn’t… it shouldn’t be this way. I shouldn’t have to pick you up off the floor,” he let out a humourless laugh, “on a school night.” Jughead averted his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get this out if he didn’t look away. “I have to start looking for a home somewhere else. With Mr Andrews and Archie. With Betty.” He paused, the image he conjured up of the blonde girl with the soft green eyes and gentle touch calmed him. She felt like home. “I think… I’m gonna marry her someday,” his voice caught and he stopped to clear it, swallowing away every doubt he had about his future. “I want a life with her, a home. And it can’t involve this, I won’t let it. You-” he paused, steeling himself for his next words. “You shouldn’t call anymore. You shouldn’t try and reach me. I can’t be your fall guy anymore. I can’t be the collateral in your messed up life. I won’t do that, not to Betty. She deserves more so that’s what I have to try to be, starting with this.” He took a shaky step towards the door. He saw FP lift a hand towards him hesitantly before thinking better of himself, letting it drop against his thigh with a defeated thud. Jughead shook his head almost imperceptibly - that confirmed it, he didn’t want to try. “Goodbye, Dad.”

The door had swung shut before the first tear slid down FP’s cheek.


It was almost three weeks later when Jughead saw FP again. He shook his head in disbelief at the familiar figure of his father standing outside Pop’s. FP stood up straight on Jughead’s approach.

“Dad, I wasn’t kidding-” he began in a furious whisper, glancing round frantically for prying eyes. He was supposed to be meeting Betty and the rest of the gang here.

“I… I’m sober, Jughead.” The words hung between them as Jughead jolted back in disbelief. He took a moment, now, to really take in the man before him. His skin was pallid and sunken beneath the eyes, dark circles standing out in striking contrast. His hands, Jughead noticed, were shaking. “Almost a week now, for real this time,” FP announced. His tone wasn’t prideful, it was holding something else… hope? Hope that’d he done enough this time to reverse the irreversible. Jughead’s eyes narrowed.

“Really?” he asked sceptically, body stiff with uncertain tension. FP nodded vigorously.

“Yeah. Yes, I swear,” he pleaded. Jughead looked him directly in the eyes, an eerie replica of his own staring back at him, earnest and clear for the first time in years. Jughead felt himself begin to nod slowly.

“Ok. Ok, I believe you. I’ll… come round and see you tomorrow,” he promised, still not making a move to close the distance between them. FP visibly deflated in relief.

“Tomorrow, sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled, still small and unsure, before turning to mount his bike, roaring out of the parking lot with renewed hope spreading throughout his chest.


“Here,” FP said, handing Jughead the box. Jughead looked up at him before opening the black velvet lid, smiling at the delicate ring nestled inside. “It was your grandmother’s, she’d want you to have it,” he finished, shrugging awkwardly at the offering.

“She’ll love it,” Jughead murmured, running a finger lightly over the blue sapphire surrounded by clusters of tiny diamonds, set in a gold band. He looked back up at FP with a genuine smile that reached his eyes, nervous excitement beginning to settle in his stomach. FP clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder, looking down at him with pride.

Seven years sober. A little worse for wear but he’d made it because of this boy - this man - stood before him. It had been the furthest road from easy, but he’d endured every shaky step to get him here because he knew this was it, his only chance.

He’d got to be there, in the gym itself, as Jughead took his steps across the stage to collect his diploma, see him look out into the audience for him and not be disappointed to find nothing but an empty seat. He got to be there to help Jughead pack for college, loading his and Betty’s boxes into the beat up old car that he’d salvaged for them as a graduation present, working with Betty in secret to fix it up so it ran smoother than it probably did when it was new.

“He’s gonna love it, Mr Jones,” Betty had giggled excitedly when they got the engine purring just the way they wanted. He laughed at the way she clasped her hands in front of her gleefully as he closed the hood.

“You think?” he asked nervously, dusting dirt off the bumper that wasn’t there.

“Of course! It’s so thoughtful,” she smiled warmly, resting a light hand on FP’s arm. He couldn’t help but smile back at her. He knew why his son was drawn to her, felt so safe with her around. He couldn’t have asked for a better guardian angel for him.

“And you can call me FP, Betty,” he called casually as he moved to clean up their tools. He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “You’re family.”

He was there, once again, when they graduated from college, whooping loudly, much to Jughead’s chagrin, as his son’s name was called. He was there as Jughead announced at dinner that he was going to be a published author. He was there on the day of the launch, posing for photos and making jokes about how he was gonna get a couple of autographed copies because his son was a big shot famous author now, Jughead rolling his eyes while his cheeks flushed. He was there at Betty and Jughead’s housewarming. They’d moved back to Riverdale, Jughead being able to write from anywhere and Betty wanting to be near Polly, taking the opportunity to learn the ins and outs of the family paper. FP said a silent prayer in thank you, as he looked around the room of guests, that his son had chosen to come back to him, even after all that had passed.

And he was there now, as Jughead’s voice shook, telling him that he was going to propose to Betty.

“Took you long enough,” he’d quipped, hand reaching out to ruffle the dark mop of hair as Jughead ducked, laughing shyly.


“Oh, this one’s beautiful, Juggie!” Betty had gushed as she poured over wedding magazines while the three of them sat in their living room over coffee - a weekly routine for them now. FP leaned over to catch a glimpse of the image she was pointing to. The wedding was outside, full of white fabric and furniture. Betty was pointing to the ornately carved archway, weaved with white roses, lilies, baby’s breath. Her eyes were shining.

“Well I could make you one of those, help with the cost,” FP said casually, taking a sip of his coffee. Betty turned her glowing green eyes on him immediately, gripping his forearm lightly.

“Really?” she was radiating hope. FP laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, sure. There’s a lumber yard not too far away, and I can borrow a couple of tools from the construction site. Easy,” he nodded in affirmation.

“Oh, thank you, FP!” she gasped, leaning over to kiss his cheek in gratitude. A shy laugh burst from his lips as he looked down, pink dusting the tops of his cheekbones. Betty flew out of the room to call Polly as FP looked up, catching Jughead’s mouth turned up in amusement. He smiled back contentedly.


“Need a partner?” FP asked, holding his hand out to the bride where she sat, chin resting in her hand as she watched her husband dance with his sister. She smiled gracefully, accepting his offer and floating out onto the dance floor, an ethereal wave of satin and lace.

“Thank you so much, FP,” she said earnestly as they began to sway, reaching up to adjust one of the flowers in her hair.

“Aw, it was nothing, Betty, really,” he replied, casting his eyes to the floor.

“No, it was! You did all this,” she insisted, gesturing to the space around them. He’d gone a little further than just building the archway he’d promised. He’d practically taken it upon himself to build the whole venue. Along with the arch he’d set up strips of white fabric, draped through the trees to create a canopy above their heads, illuminated by rows and rows of soft yellow string lights. Petals covered every inch of the floor, strewn delicately down the isle that was created by the rows of mismatched chairs FP had found in various scrap yards and secondhand stores, all cleaned up and painted white. “It was just how I imagined it, more even.” FP lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well. I just wanted to make it everything you wanted… that you deserved.” He paused, looking down at her warm smile for a moment before taking a breath to continue. “Betty, I want you to know that, without you, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” She furrowed her brow, waiting for him to continue. “I’d gotten to a place where Jughead wasn’t willing to help me anymore, where I’d done too much to ever redeem myself. Being with you helped him see that he deserved more than I could give him at that time, that he could be more than just my safety net. When he told me that… I saw everything I was going to miss out on, and that never would have happened if he hadn’t found you. So, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life thanking you, the both of you, in any way I can for what you did for me.” Betty blinked away the tears in her eyes, not bothering to wipe away the stray few that still managed to fall.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.


He’d been speechless when they told him, knowing there was something different in the air as they sipped their usual morning coffee together.

“A baby?” he’s asked incredulously, hoping beyond hope that he’d heard them right.

“Yeah, Dad. You’re gonna be a grandpa,” Jughead had laughed, his face glowing at he gazed down at his beautiful wife, tucked under his arm with an equally bright expression gracing her face.  

Grandpa. Him, a grandpa. That was going to be his new title now. He couldn’t believe it - he’d made it.


“Ugh, thank you so much, FP,” Betty had greeted him with a relieved expression as he bumbled through the door, a paper grocery bag under each arm. “I would have asked Jughead but he’s out all day in the city at this press thing for the new book and I just…” she broke off, gesturing flippantly at her huge swollen belly stretching out before her. He laughed as he set the bags down on the counter, turning to watch her waddle in behind him.

“No problem, Betty. Anything I can do, remember?” he said, eyes taking on a hint of seriousness round the edges. She nodded in understanding, smiling gently. She placed a hand on her back, groaning as she brushed a few stray hairs back from her sweaty forehead.

“Whoever thought being pregnant in the summer was a good idea was seriously- oh!” She flinched, hand flying to her stomach. FP was at her side immediately.

“Betty? Everything alright?” he asked, hovering by her. She nodded slowly, eyes staring at nothing in particular as she focused on the sensations happening inside her body .

“Yeah, I just… FP, would you be able to take me to the hospital, I think I’m about to have this baby,” she said casually, straightening up and placing her hands on her hips. FP’s eye bugged as he took in what she said.

“Now?! How-” he broke off in question.

“Well, I’ve been having contractions all morning but I thought they were just Braxton Hicks or something, and I didn’t want to stop Jug going to this event…” she trailed off sheepishly glancing up at her father-in-law from under her eyelashes. He blew out a chuckle in disbelief, shaking his head slightly.

“You really are something else, Betty Jones.” She just shrugged, blowing out a slow breath as another contraction took over. “Ah, ok, where’s your bag? Ring Jughead, I’ll meet you by the car.” He rushed towards the bedroom, swinging back round the corner to raise an eyebrow at her. “He’s going to kill you for not saying anything, you know.” She waved a hand dismissively, already making her way outside.

“I’m about to push out his child, he doesn’t have the right.”


“Are you sure?” Jughead asked nervously, hands hovering over Juliet where she lay, cradled in her grandpa’s arms. “Maybe it’s too soon, Betts…” he trailed off, turning to look at his wife with anxious eyes. Betty sighed, coming over to place a reassuring hand on his arm, smoothing out the crease between his eyebrows with a cool finger.

“It’ll be fine, Juggie. You’ve got everything covered, right FP?” she asked, turning to face him with a confident smile. FP nodded, never taking his eyes off his granddaughter’s face as he bounced her gently.

“Both your cell numbers are in my phone, bottles in the fridge, spare milk in the freezer, extra diapers in the cupboard under the stairs. We’ll be fine, won’t we, lovebug?” he cooed at the soft bundle in his arms as she snuffled slightly before settling down again. “See?” FP looked up at Jughead with calm eyes. Jughead stared down at him for a beat, battling with his instincts internally before letting out a sigh, nodding his head.

“Ok, yeah. But if you need anything…” he repeated, fixing his dad with a look.

“Just go, already!” FP laughed gently, trying not to disturb the baby. Betty giggled, pulling on Jughead’s arm slightly to get him towards the door. “Have fun!”

FP stared down at Juliet, allowing her tiny hand to wrap round his finger as he spoke softly to her.

“You have the best parents, I hope you know that. They’ve saved me more times than I can count and I’ll never be able to repay them for that. I made some bad decisions, worse than most, but here I am. I get to hold you in my arms because your mom and your dad didn’t give up on me. They were there when I needed it the most.” He sniffed, blinking rapidly. “I got to see it all because of them, and I can’t wait to see it all again with you.”

Someday, I’ll see you again

Someday, I’ll see you again ; Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Setting : End of first movie to start of second movie

****Requested: Yes

“Hurry up, you slowpoke!” Y/N shouted, looking behind her to see Edmund sitting still on his horse.

“Just… Taking a breather.” Edmund said, gesturing to Phillip.

“You stay back and I’ll catch the white stag myself.” Lucy and Susan mocked as they arrived, their horses skidding to a stop beside Y/N.

“Honestly, brother. You should be the one to care for your wife in these situations, not the other way around!” Peter snorted, appearing alongside his sisters.

“Ah, but my husband is old now. I’m afraid he’s not as agile as he used to be back then.” Y/N teased smirking over at Edmund. “I’m fine, though. I understand you completely, love.”

Edmund made a face at his wife before looking at the huge black metal pole beside him.

“A tree made of metal?” He muttered quite loudly.

Lucy gasped and dismounted her horse to run up and touch the so-called tree.
“I think it’s called a lantern?” Y/N said, causing the four to look at her in confusion. “What? I have a slight memory of it. After all, it IS in Lantern Waste, is it not?”

The four nodded in understanding.

“It’s like I’ve seen this before, though.” Lucy whispered. “Like, in a dream.”
“Or in a dream of a dream.” Edmund added.

Lucy gasped and opened her mouth in excitement. “Spare Oom!”

The others looked at each other in confusion.

Lucy ran off into a small passageway of pinecones.

“Lucy!” Y/N shrieked and dismounted her horse and ran after the excited queen.

“Y/N!” Edmund and his siblings followed suit and sprinted after Lucy and Y/N.
However, they were surprised when they all fell back in the 1950s, back in their original ages when they entered Narnia.

Edmund’s eyes immediately scanned his siblings and darted around the room, not even aware of the ongoing conversation between Peter and Professor Kirke.

“I’m not sure you’ll believe us, sir.” He heard Peter say in his panicking state.

“Try me.” Professor said with a smile, throwing the ball at the siblings at the exact time Edmund stood up.

Edmund hastily batted away the ball, much to everyone’s shock, and ran back inside the wardrobe.

“Edmund?” Lucy asked when she heard Edmund shouting, pounding and kicking the back of the wooden wardrobe.

Peter walked in the wardrobe and dragged him back. “Edmund, calm down.”

“Let me go! I have to go back!” Edmund screamed and flailed in Peter’s arms.

“Edmund! What in the name of Aslan came over you?” Susan said before whipping around to look at the Professor who smiled at her and gestured at her brother.

“Edmund, what’s bothering you?” Peter asked once the brunette boy calmed down.

Edmund looked down and took a sharp breath before he raised his head, looked his older brother in the eyes with the fierce glare that can be received from only the finest warrior, diplomat and one of the finest kings that Narnia has experienced.

Peter barely had the time to gulp before Edmund growled with rage.

“Where the hell is my wife?

Y/N woke up under her bed.

"What…?” She breathed before crawling out and widening her eyes at the cream walls surrounding her.

She was not in Narnia anymore.

She was back home, in 2016.

2016… Boy, she had a lot of adjusting to do.

As she stood there, the door slammed open, revealing a small girl.


Y/N twirled to see her little sister holding a small device.

Oh, right. I have a phone.

Y/N smiled and took the device. “Thank you, sister. I must rest, I’ve had a rough day today. I’ll see you at dinner, I presume?”

Y/N’s sister looked at her in confusion before shrugging and walking away while shouting. “You’re unusually nice today. I like it. See ya at dinner, sis.”
Y/N sighed and closed the door.

Feeling a familiar weight, Y/N looked down at her hand and was surprised to see a silver wedding ring.

Hers and Edmund’s.

She smiled knowingly and looked our her bedroom window.

“I know I’ll see you again. Someday, I will. I know I will. I have to see you again.”

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Libraries and Piragua (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You were sexiled by your roommate on a day that you’d kill just to collapse into bed. You end up passing time with someone that makes your day end on a high note.

Word Count: 1,340

Warnings: Aimless plot, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), cussing, mentions of death (but character death like Abuela Claudia’s death in ITH mentioned is what I’m saying)

A/N: College AUs are my weakness, this is a demonstration of my knack for tying In The Heights into literally anything (and making my Classical Tradition professor proud with my Sophocles reference). Also, I am obsessed with the way Lin’s eyes are so expressive and was forced to take out approximately 1,000 references to them from this fic during proofreading.

“Please [Y/N]? You owe me from that time you broke the coffee machine, [Y/N].” you muttered, mocking your roommate’s pleas as you trudged across campus to the library. You planned on mocking your own stupidity for agreeing to her request once you were done being annoyed with her. She had to pick the one day you ended up having a terrible, rushing-everywhere, everything-goes-wrong kind of day to seal the deal with the guy she’s been pining over for months. 

You yanked open the door to the library with an unnecessary amount of force before you stalked inside. You made it upstairs, appreciative of the near empty scene. There was only a few people scattered among the tables or computers along the wall. At least you knew you’d be left alone with your bitterness. 

You pulled out a chair to toss your bag onto before shedding your jacket. Once you got settled in, you pulled out your headphones and laptop. You popped in one headphone and scanned your library looking for a song that might ease your exasperation. Once you had it playing you pulled out your textbook and leafed through it, debating whether you wanted to be productive or not. You settled on not and shoved it away before pulling your laptop closer. With your one free ear you heard a chuckle and you internally sighed before turning to find its source. The table to your right had a boy who was looking at you amused. You wondered if the dark circles under his eyes meant he was as exhausted as you were.

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Please, Don’t Be Mad

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas

Word Count: 2,748

Warnings: Talk of not being able to have kids (female) so if you’re uncomfortable with this, read with caution, language (maybe), little bit of angst, little bit of fluff

Request: Can you do a Dean imagine with reader saying. “Baby, please don’t be mad at Cas. It’s my fault he couldn’t tell you what’s wrong with me.”

Quote is highlighted in the fic

Author’s Note: Please, send in requests because I love reading them and I love writing them! If you would like to be tagged in my future fics and my Series Rewrite that is coming soon, let me know and I’ll add you!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom (if you wished to not be tagged, let me know and I’ll remove you)

Originally posted by winsync

Your hands trembled as you stared at the pregnancy test in your hands. This was the 10th time you looked at one of these and every single fucking time, it said the same thing. You weren’t pregnant.

What were you doing wrong? You and Dean have been trying to have a baby for a long time and you just couldn’t get it right. You’ve tried for so long to have a family and you’ve disappointed Dean too many times.

He constantly told you that he wasn’t upset, that you and him doing everything you could. But you could see right through his lies. He wanted a family since he was getting older. You tried to give him one but nothing seemed to be working.

Tears were welling up inside your eyes and you tried not letting them fall. You couldn’t tell Dean this… he would be so heartbroken. You’ve been dating 4 years before you got married. You’ve been married 2 years and he thought that this was the perfect time to start having children.

You couldn’t have agreed more and got to work. Almost every day, he would try and make a baby with you and after each time, you were certain this was the time you got pregnant. However, reality wasn’t too kind on you two.

You figured God didn’t want you to have children at this time but that didn’t stop you from trying. But after it kept happening and happening, you lost hope. The cashier at the damn pharmacy store knows who you are and wishes you that you get pregnant, you’ve gone in there so many times.

You sighed and stood up, throwing the test away with the others. You walked out of the bathroom, hoping you didn’t run into Dean. You didn’t want to run into Sam either because he would sense something was wrong with you in an instant. He was your best friend so of course he would notice something wrong.

No, you were looking for Castiel. He has been staying in the Bunker a lot and you hoped he was here this time. He was a powerful angel and you hoped he would be able to tell you what you were doing wrong. Was the problem you? Was the problem Dean?

You walked into the library to see Cas trying to figure something out on his phone.

“Cas?” He looked up with his brows furrowed.

“Y/N, could you help me with this?” You walked to him and looked at his phone. You chuckled when you saw the Snapchat app opened.

“Who are you snapchatting?” You asked with a smile.

“Dean, but I don’t know exactly how to reply.”

“Where is Dean?” You asked, biting your lip.

“He’s out with Sam right now.” You nodded and backed away from Castiel slowly. Cas looked at you, about to ask another question about the app but stopped himself when he saw tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip trembled and you sat on a chair, looking at the ground.

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anonymous asked:

Hey mom!! You adopted me like two weeks ago and yeah, thank you!! Things are still weird at home, but thank you so much for your words. I love nb!alex... so maybe if you could write how Alex kinda comes out to the superfriends and yeah.. :) I'm sorry, I know you are not taking prompts but I had to ask. :)

The last time Alex gathered them all to make an announcement, it was a little bit anticlimactic.

James and Winn had blinked for a moment, and thought about it for a moment more, and immediately it made sense that of course Alex was dating a woman, and of course that woman was Maggie.

The most dramatic thing that happened that night was Winn trying to play geometry with sticks.

So they’re not sure what to expect tonight, and Kara’s not spilling.

“Maybe they’re getting engaged,” James suggests, and Kara just grins and adjusts her glasses.

“Or maybe that supposed mission out of state the other week was really a shotgun wedding in Vegas,” Winn suggests.

“Mr. Schott, they returned with three members of Cadmus in handcuffs, in what way does that strike you as a fake mission?”

Winn’s voice goes up slightly and it reminds Kara forcibly of Cisco, and she smiles to herself.

“They could’ve had some downtime, we don’t know!”

“Hi guys,” Alex interrupts, face a combination of flushed and terrified and excited.

“Look at them holding hands like that, see, totally shotgun wedding!” Winn splutters, as Alex and Maggie cast him identical mock glares.

“We didn’t get married, Winn,” Maggie sing songs as she plops down next to him, her hand still in Alex’s vice-like grip.

“What’s up, Alex?” James asks, and J'onn looks on with soft eyes.

Alex looks, wide-eyed, at Kara, at Maggie. They nod and Alex gulps and Alex fiddles with Winn’s bottle of beer and Alex speaks.

“So since I’ve come out, as gay, I’ve been… doing a lot of research. Learning a lot of things. About… about queer life. And about myself.”

“I knew those lesbian movie nights were a good idea!” Winn high fives Maggie, and she laughs softly and shakes her head, her eyes fixed supportively on Alex.

“And I’ve been learning new concepts… identities… well, not new, but things I didn’t know… possibilities I didn’t know were there. And I’ve been realizing a lot of things… about myself… and who I am. Inside. And I… who I am is… do you guys know the word nonbinary?”

J'onn smiles proudly and James cocks his head and Winn raises his hand like a proud nerd in math class.

“Neither one extreme nor the other!”

“In terms of gender, Winn.”

“Sometimes it means neither woman nor man; for others, it means both; for still others, it means different things at different times,” J'onn supplies softly, and they all turn to him with identical expressions.

“I’ve lived long lives on two planets,” he waves them off, gesturing back to Alex, still wearing a proud, soft smile.

“Is there a different pronoun you’d like us to start using for you, Alex?” he invites, and Alex could cry with relief, and squeezes Maggie’s hand, hard.

Maggie brings it to her lips and kisses each knuckle.

“They,” Alex says, softly at first, but then they clear their throat and look into Kara’s warm eyes as they say it louder, stronger.

“They. I want they pronouns. It just… it fits me better than… than anything else. I just didn’t know it was a possibility before.”

“And you’re still okay with Alex, or do you want us to go with something else?” J'onn prompts into James and Winn’s silence.

“I like Alex. Or… or Al. I like Al… a lot. But Alex is… Alex still fits.”

Maggie kisses their hand again, and Kara nudges her shoulder into James and tosses her hand toward Winn.

“You two are awfully quiet,” she speaks her sibling’s fear for them, and Maggie rubs her thumb across their hand as they wait for the boys to respond.

“No, no, I’m sorry Alex, I’m not… I’m just processing, that’s all. Come here,” James gets up and leans over and Alex hugs him hard and trembling and terrified.

“Is it okay if I have questions?” he asks, and Alex nods nervously.

“Do you want us to treat you different? Like, I want to treat you how you want to be treated, and I guess now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve treated you kind of like a sister. Do you need me to adjust that? Treat you more like a brother? Or both? Or neither? Or different things at different times? Is it okay to ask that?”

Alex grins and nods and touches his shoulder. “Yeah, I said you could ask. Uh… you know I don’t know yet? I like… I like feeling like… like the boyish parts of me are acknowledged, that makes me really happy… like, Winn, when you call me dude, it makes me feel really proud. Like you see me, you know? But I don’t think I would want to be treated basically like one of the guys all the time. I still feel like a lesbian. So there’s that. I guess I’ll let you know what I like and don’t like as it happens?”

James nods and smiles at them, and reaches out to touch their hand. “I’m really proud of you, Alex. Al. You’re amazing, you know that? Whatever pronouns you use.”

Alex grins again and suddenly Winn is up and suddenly Winn’s arms are around their shoulders.

“I never had a brother or a sister. Then I got James, and then I got you. And Maggie. And now I have a brother and a sister and a sibling, and it’s… I always wanted a full family. I love you, Alex. I love you so much.”

Alex pats his arm and pulls their head back to look at him. “You alright there, Winn?”

“I’m just proud of you, okay?”

They smile and kiss his cheek.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Winn. You can get off me now.”

“Yes soldier,” he murmurs as he scurries back to his seat.

“And you knew already,” they say across the table to J'onn.

“I had a feeling, Al. And your brothers aren’t the only ones who are proud of you.”

Alex bites their lip and Alex battles tears. “You’re not disappointed? Because you don’t have two daughters anymore?”

Their voice cracks and everyone reaches across the table toward their hands all at once, because suddenly not a single Superfriend has dry eyes.

“Alex. I watched you grow up, and I watched you turn into the finest child any man could ever ask for. You’re a protective sibling, a loving partner, a brilliant doctor, a fearless agent. And you’re the best child any parent could ever ask for. I’m not losing a daughter, Alex: I’m not losing anything. I’m gaining a child who’s learning more about themself, who’s growing more comfortable, more happy, within themself. And that is all I could ever want for you, or for your sister.”

Before he’s even finished talking, Alex is up and across the table and kneeling next to his seat and burrowing themselves in his chest.

“I love you,” they whisper as Maggie squeezes Winn’s hand and Kara cries happily into James’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Alex. I love you too.”

Zuko and Azula's Relationship

Unpopular opinion: most people agree that Azula’s downfall began with the betrayal of Mai and Ty Lee but I’m going to stand here and say it really started with the betrayal of Zuko during The Day of Black Sun.

Zuko and Azula have always had a bit of a troubled relationship but we see in Zuko Alone that they did get along somewhat as children. I don’t see Azula as being someone who’s needlessly cruel, ok maybe under the right circumstances, but she is someone who is willing to be cruel with reason. Have you ever been in a situation where you idolized someone and, once you got to know them better, you realized they were a disappointment? I bet that was the beginning of the breakdown of young Azula and Zuko’s relationship. Young Azula would have loved her doting, attentive big brother but as she surpassed him, she began to see he wasn’t as great as she’d originally though. Azula probably became bitter at Zuko for not being the excellent big brother she’d envisioned while, at the same time, building a lot of her self-confidence on being better than Zuko.

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Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy (Faraday x Reader) NSFW

Originally posted by aleclightwqqd



“How much?”

“Two bits for the cheap stuff, three dollars for the good stuff.”

You were too busy cleaning the aftermath of a fight to bother looking up. The voice didn’t sound familiar, but then again, most didn’t. People were always drifting in and out of town. It was rare to see a face stick around for more than three days, and even rarer for you to bother recognizing it.

“Hey Johnny, you got two bits on ya? Gonna buy me a whore for the night.” The stranger could barely finish his sentence without bursting into hysterics, and you could hear a few others join in. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the joke, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it still stung.

“Either drink or get out,” you replied coldly as you continued wiping down the bar, careful to avoid the broken glass.  

“She’s got some fight in her! I like it. A buck. I think you’re worth a whole buck.”

“Alright now listen,” you hissed as you finally stopped what you were doing to meet his eye line. He was an ugly looking guy, just as you expected. His beard was long and mangled. He was missing a few teeth. You weren’t sure when the last time he bathed was. Disgusting. “I think it’s best you leave.”

“Oh yeah?” He stood up, placing one hand on his gun, and grabbing your wrist with the other. You winced a bit as he tightened his grip. He’d pinned your hand down hard against a large shard of glass. “How about no money but instead I let you keep that pretty little head of yours.”  

“Fuck,” you mumbled as panic started to set in. Men made lewd comments all the time, and on nearly a daily basis they got in fights with each other, but never had one gotten physical with you. In all honesty, you considered yourself relatively lucky. With the trash that drifted through here, you were surprised nobody tried anything sooner.

“ ‘Scuse me, but I’m gonna need you to move aside. I’m trying to order a drink from this here lady.”

The man blinked and turned his head. Resting against the bar was yet another man you didn’t recognize. This one seemed calm and collected, but you still caught a spark of wildfire in the corner of his eye.

“The hell you think you’re doin’, Faraday? You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you dead after you cheated back there at poker.”

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Sweet Home Sioux Falls Pt 4: Drunks Say the Darndest Things

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Reader x OC

Words: 7200ish (so much drama in one part)

Warnings: Manipulative Relationship, Swearing, Drinking, Fighting (More under the cut by the tags- don’t want to spoil!)

Summary: (Very loosely based off of Sweet Home Alabama) Years after you left your old life to start a new and “better” one in New York City, your now-fiance decides that it’s time to meet your father, Bobby Singer, which unfortunately avalanches into him meeting all your friends, family, and your not-so-ex-husband Dean Winchester.

A/N: Remember, guys, the timeline is all out of wack. Basically everyone’s alive and Dean never went to Purgatory. Also, the reader’s current relationship is based off of a manipulative relationship I was in. The attitude and thoughts the reader has after she fights with Patrick? Yeah, that’s not healthy. So if you can relate to her relationship, please please please step back and analyze yours. It may not be as happy and healthy as you think. Always here to talk, listen, and share my experience if anyone needs to hear it <3 Feedback is, as always, much appreciated!



You slammed the door to Patrick’s Prius shut and stared at the bar in front of you. The familiar rotting wood and crooked “Roadhouse” sign stared down at you almost menacingly. Nothing like standing face-to-face with a past you vowed to leave behind.

This was where you had your first beer, hung up your first hunting souvenir, and even where you held your wedding reception. How romantic.

You could almost clearly remember Dean kicking down the front door, both of you hammered and your dress slightly ripped from your groom being unable to keep his hands off you. You remember stumbling into Sam and him telling you he’s so glad he got the chance to call you his sister before everything went down. The night was full of cheerful somber, as everyone drank to ignore the fact that Sam was planning to fall headfirst into Hell’s pit in just a couple of days.

Sam had forced you and Dean to get hitched before his fated sacrifice arrived, begging to let him witness it and just have one last day with his family before it all ended for him.

After the day he fell into the pit, you and Dean drank yourself to the floor for months until finally setting up the apple pie life Sam had made you two promise to pursue. The civilian lifestyle only lasted half a year or so, ending right when a soulless Sam came strolling up to your doorstep.

Then you fought for his soul, Castiel betrayed the three of you, Leviathans poured into Earth, Sam went crazy, Castiel returned, the mother of monsters came to earth, you became…

Before you could think back to what changed you and Dean forever, a ring from your cellphone startled you from your thoughts. 

You quickly pulled it from your pocket and smiled at your fiancé’s name lighting up your phone. You turned away from the inevitable confrontation in the bar and  pressed the answer button.

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crossed wires

Saskia helps Jaal, and comes away with something she did not expect. Jaalmance, pre-relationship, ao3 link

“I understand, Lexi,” Saskia said, for perhaps the sixth time as the asari followed her from the Tempest’s bridge.

“Do you?” Her voice was hard, that perfect mixture of stern disappointment and endearing exasperation that Saskia had come to find surprisingly comforting. “Because I feel like my words are flying straight over your head.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke about my height?”

Lexi said nothing as they stopped at the research hub. Saskia looked back to see the asari staring at her with furrowed brow, but the start of a smile.

“I would never make fun of one of my patients. But I’m serious, Saskia,” her voice dropped again, eyes intent and analyzing, “you need to be more careful in the field. You weren’t trained for combat, not for this kind of combat, anyway. Let everyone else take the hits. You and SAM can hang back. You’re more valuable alive than with your spine broken.”

Saskia took a deep breath, trying not to wince as her shoulder throbbed. “I know. But I can’t help if a wraith throws me ten feet into the air.”

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Requested by Anon
Warnings: mentions of suicide, refusal to eat (ED?), mentions of abuse, cursing
Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Reader
Description: Lip sees that there’s something going on with the reader so he tries to help them
A/N: This was supposed to be a lot sadder but like it’s fluffy in the end promise

Lip, if you could actually say it, was the love of your life. You’d met him in college, and helped him through his tough time. You were there for him when he went to rehab, and you made sure he was doing good. You’d hurt yourself if you saw him in pain, but he needed you and that’s all that mattered.

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Sebastian Aho #2 - Girl Problems

Originally posted by amxwolf

A/N - heya everyone! this is super cute and super fluffy and I hope it brightens your day because I couldn’t stop grinning while writing this whole thing. 

for the anon request: Can you write a sebastian aho imagine where they meet for the first time, please?


You are not proud of your grocery shopping habits okay? Bur sometimes being a student is hella stressful and you only realize that you only have a bottle of ketchup and a couple bottles of beer in your fridge at midnight when you are trying to pack your lunch for the next day. So you go to the 24-hour grocery store a block away from your apartment at close to one in the morning. I mean, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right?

So here you are, wandering around the store with your basket half-full of the essentials when you realize that your period is supposed to be start in two days. You walk down the feminine products aisle and startle a little bit when you run right into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you apologize right away, “I’m not used to people being here this late.” when you looked up you almost swallowed your tongue. The person you just ran into was a really cute  guy who had a look of pure terror and confusion on his face while staring at a wall of various boxes of tampons and pads. The man blushed at you like he was embarrassed to be caught in the act, making you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh.

“No, no. My fault.” the mystery man assured in an accent you didn’t recognize fully, “Just confused.”

“about life in general so you decided to take a midnight trip to a supermarket, or confused about what the hell happens to women’s bodies every month because you have a poor girl at home in need of some assistance?” you smiled and quirked an eyebrow at him.

Your question brought out a shy smile on his face and you suddenly realized that you wanted to do everything your power to keep that beautiful thing there. “Last one.” he replied and made wide, help-me eyes at the aforementioned wall.

“For your girlfriend?” you asked, half out of concern of what kind to get for cutie-pie-stranger‘s damsel in distress, and half for selfish reasons.

“No, my sister.” you did a mini fist pump in your head, “Is first time and she really embarrassed and neither of us prepared.”

“Aw, poor girl.” you smiled warmly before picking up a box of your personal favourite type of pads when you were a teenager and handed it to him along with a duo box of tween tampons and panty liners. “she’ll want to stick with pads for right now, but if she wants tampons these ones should fit her body better.”

Mystery-man looked at the boxes you just handed to him like they were from outer space then looked back at you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Fit?”

You laughed at that, “Oh honey, you are in way over your head. Come on, you are going to need a few more things to help your sis out.” you quickly picked up your own box of tampons and turned on your heel to start through the store once more. The stunned man quickly caught up to you as you went on your hunt for ibuprofen.

“What you doing here so late then?” he asked

“School is hell and I’m generally a mess.” you replied bluntly making him chuckle, “plus it’s much easier getting shopping done without anyone around, than trying to fight through mothers of four with their snotty-nosed toddlers having temper tantrums on weekends.”

You searched the display in front of you quickly before spotting the little box of life-saving pain relief and handed it to him.

“You not a mess.” he said with puppy dog eyes looking at you. God, you think you might be visibly swooning, “You very helpful and nice.”

You beamed back at him before admitting, “The only reason I am actually capable right now is because I have, in fact, been a woman my whole life so I deal with this bullshit a lot.”

He smiled back at you while you continued on through the store. You talked back and forth, trading questions about what you both did with your lives and you were surprised to find that he was actually a Carolina Hurricanes player. You accumulated a heat pad and some tissues before you pulled him into the dessert aisle. You went right for the big chocolate bars, handing two to him and then grabbing a box of cupcakes with thick pink icing and rainbow sprinkles on top.

He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly when you handed him those items “Trust me, both you and your sister will thank me later.”

“I don’t think I will ever understand girls.” he smiled and shook his head.

“You don’t need to understand us, just understand some of the shit we have to deal with sometimes and being able to help is just fine.” you smiled back at him, as you started walking to the cash register, “Alright, you should be set to go then. And try not to make a big deal about it because your sister is probably really embarrassed even though it is the most normal thing in the world.”

“Thanks for all your help…” it suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t asked your name.

“(Y/N)” you supplied and his face brightened making you giggle a bit

“Sebastian.’ he replied and you smiled at that too, having a name to associate with one of the cutest people you had met in your life.

“Good luck Sebastian,” you smiled and tried not to look disappointed that this was probably going to be the last time seeing him.

“Wait!” he called after you, “…Could I maybe… get your number? Y’know, in case I need anymore help?” he asked shyly.

You bit your lip lightly, “Hmm… that depends.”

Sebastian’s face fell a little bit, “Depends on what?”

“If you are actually planning on using my number as a helpline, then no. If that was just a bad pick-up line and you really want to take me out sometime, then of course.” you winked

Sebastian’s face immediately let back up and he let out a little chuckle in spite of himself, “You are something else, (Y/N). And I really like it.” you were now blushing at his words but you traded phones and in the next thirty seconds had the name and number for this cute boy that you met at the supermarket at one in the morning while helping him look for tampons. What a story, eh?

You both checked out quickly and Sebastian walked you out to your car. Before getting in he swooped down and kissed you on your cheek and you felt all of your insides turn to goop.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight Sebastian.” you smiled and hopped into your car. He blew you a little kiss as you pulled away from the parking lot and you didn’t stop grinning from ear to ear for the whole ride home.


Up next: Andre Burakovsky!


Originally posted by angel-in-slow-motion

lol it’s been so long since i’ve done this. i guess this is technically part of my Life w Suho series bu u know how it goes. hope you enjoy!! also isn’t this gif so lovely??

Pairing: Junmyeon (Suho) x Reader

Word Count: 1.206k

Genre/Rating: FLUFF / G

Warnings: none :)


Junmyeon had promised to be back soon, he just had to take a call from his manager. You didn’t mind, you understood that comeback season was a very busy time. Your head was leaning up against the armrest of EXO’s couch as you laid on your back reading a book Minsok lent you. Junmyeon paced back into the room, still on the phone and you could tell he was getting bored. He sat himself down on the couch next to your propped up knees. You stole a glance at the time and realized he had been on the phone for almost an hour. No wonder he was getting restless. You felt him shift your knees so he could lay between them and place his cheek on your stomach. His free hand was used to draw little shapes on your side.

You lost interest in the book a few minutes later and decided to turn on the TV instead. You turned the volume down so you wouldn’t interrupt your boyfriend’s call and you felt him kiss you tummy as thanks. You got so invested in the drama that was on, you didn’t realize Junmyeon was off the phone until he shook your leg.

“You weren’t listening to me.” He pouts.

“Sorry Myeon. Are you done now?”

“Yeah. Sorry it took so long.”

“It must’ve been important. Is everything okay?” Junmyeon looks troubled but doesn’t speak so you know something happened. You whisper a soft ‘come here’ and he moves up to tuck his head into your neck.

“They’re pushing up the tour dates. There’s a lot of new choreography to learn this round and it’s hard. We’re struggling to finish learning it and our vocals are still a little shaky. I’m just scared we won’t be ready. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. And that means I have to leave earlier too. I’m sorry.” His voice wavers a bit and you’re worried for him. This comeback has been hard for him and all the boys. He’s had so much to do and worry about lately and you know he’s nearing exhaustion.

“From what I’ve seen, you guys are well on your way. You’ve been working so hard I don’t think it’s possible that you won’t be ready. You always pull through. I know this this comeback will be even bigger and better than the last one. Your fans will be so proud of you. And don’t worry about me. The earlier you leave, the earlier you come back. Maybe you’ll even be able to make it back in time to come with me on that trip with my work friends I was telling you about.” Junmyeon let’s your words sink in and he relaxes as you run your hands through his hair. “I know you’re tired. I know it’s hard. But I am here for you and so are the rest of your boys. We all love you so much. If it’ll help, you can take a nap before we go out.”

“I love you so much, (y/n). I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I’ll wake you up in an hour or two, okay?” You feel Junmyeon nod and place a few sleepy kisses across your collarbone.

You allow yourself to loosen up as well and channel surf for a while before settling on a cooking show. Once you feel Junmyeon relax completely under the spell of sleep, you feel yourself getting tired too. You slip in and out of sleep for a while before waking up and deciding you’re hungry. You take a few last minutes to relax before you decide it’s time to wake your boyfriend up.You start to shake him awake but stop as the rest of the EXO members enter the room.

“Hey guys, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. We were thinking and we just wanted to say thank you. You’ve always been here for us and for Junmyeon and we know it can’t always be easy. You’ve been so good to all of us and some of us have been a really big pain to you so we got you something to remind you that we love you too. Maybe not as much as Junmyeon, but we’re really happy to have you around.” Minseok speaks and the boys behind him all nod along.

“This is for you. We all pitched in. We know you guys love this place. There’s enough on the card for you guys to go out twice.” Jongin hands you a gift card to your favorite restaurant.

“Oh my god, you guys didn’t have to!”

“Of course we did. Only the best for our dad!” Baekhyun says.

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, if Junmyeon is our mom, you’re our dad.” Sehun explains.

“Well in that case, thank you kids. I’ll be sure to show this to your mom.” You laugh. “Seriously though, thank you guys so much. I’ll come give you hugs before we leave.”

The boys all file out of the room telling you to eat well and that they love you. You smile and place a kiss your boyfriend’s hair and you feel him smiling too.

“Hey, how long have you been awake?”

“I woke up when you started talking.” Junmyeon’s voice is a little thick and slow from waking up.

“Then you know where we’re going to eat tonight, right?”

“I do know and I’m excited.” He nods, still smiling into your skin. “Those boys love you too much.”

“They’re supposed to. I’m their father after all.” You giggle.

“I know, I heard.”

“Isn’t this great? I have a full family and I didn’t even have to give birth once.” The tired boy laughs fully at your comment.

“Do you want kids when we get married?” His question catches you off guard.

“You want to marry me?”

“I really want to marry you. Not right now though. When I’m sure we’ll be okay financially and we’re both ready to settle down, I’ll ask you. I’m going to get you to make one of those pinterest wedding boards and then we’ll plan the perfect ceremony. I want it to be perfect. We’ll move in together in the suburbs and love each other more and more every day and when we get old, we’ll tell our grandkids the story of how we fell in love and they’ll think we’re the cutest couple ever.” His words have your heart beating fast and you feel your face heat up. He was so sure of wanting a future with you it was almost overwhelming. You didn’t know if you had ever been so in love with a person. Noticing your silence, Junmyeon forced himself fully awake and pushed himself up so he could look at you. “Is that not okay? I’m sorry, was that too much?”

“No, that’s perfect.” Junmyeon smiles down at you and for a moment the both of you are content with relishing in the other’s existence.

“Come on, we should probably get going.” He takes your hand and pulls you off the couch with him. “Our children have treated us to a lovely dinner.”

“So… how would you feel about having eleven kids?”

“We are not naming our children after the other members of exo.”

AU where your soulmate’s first words to you are written on your skin (bc every fandom should have one and this is my favourite fic trope ever)

Jack gets his words when he’s five years old. At first, he’s kind of confused.

“Maman,” he says, tugging at his mother’s shirt where she sits at the dining room table. He holds his arm up for her to see. “Je ne comprends pas!”

Alicia Zimmermann starts when she sees the words now permanently inked on her son’s forearm. They’re written in a loopy, pretty script down the middle of his arm, stark against his pale skin. She smiles when she reads the words – English, which he hasn’t yet learnt to read – and pulls him up into her lap. She holds his arm gently in her hands, and he pokes at the words suspiciously.

“Qu-est ce que c’est, Maman?”

“It’s your words,” she explains. “They’re the words that will tell you who your soulmate is.”


“Jack,” he looks away from his arm to meet her gaze, his confusion evident. Alicia pulls her jumper to expose her collarbone and the words written there. The handwriting is one Jack knows, recognizes pretty quickly as his father’s, but he’d never really considered the fact that the messy scrawl on his mother’s skin was actually written by his papa. “Everyone gets them at some point or other. Most people get them when their soulmate is born, but not always. Sometimes it’s a little later, or a little earlier, but the point is, there’s someone out there waiting for you.” She lets her jumper sit back in place and runs a gentle hand through her son’s messy black hair. “One day you’ll meet someone who says those words to you. You’ll know they’re your soulmate because it’ll be the first thing they say. Somewhere on their body will be the first words you’ll say to them.” Jack looks thoughtful.

“What do my words say, Maman?”

“Are you sure you can’t work it out?” Jack looks at his arm again, brow furrowed in concentration. His English reading ability is poorer than his French, and the handwriting is a bit too cursive for someone as young as him, but he’s always been determined. Alicia waits patiently as Jack mouths the words slowly, working them out in his head, trying to sound the letters into something he understands.

It’s five minutes before he smiles again, clearly pleased with himself. Whatever he’s worked out is evidently a sentence he understands from the way he bounces excitedly.

“Maman, I know what they’re saying!”

“You know what your soulmate is saying?”

“Oui. I know what they will say.” He takes a deep breath as he looks back down at his arm, running a small finger underneath the words as he reads them carefully out loud. His mother praises his reading, and after a few more minutes of questions about soulmarks the day returns to normal.

It’s only later, when he’s curled up in bed with his stuffed whale toy tucked against his body that he remembers the words again. He pulls back the sleeve of his pajamas to see the words still stark and clear on his skin, even in the low glow from his night light. He whispers them into the air wondrously. For all his excitement now, over the coming years his faith that the words will be spoken with good intention fade and fade as he learns more about the world.

By the time he’s fifteen he covers the words in a long arm sleeve specially designed to hide soulmarks. He only takes it off to shower, and never lets Kent see what’s beneath it. His mother tries to broach the topic once, suggests carefully that soulmarks are rarely ever said in the way one thinks, but his anger makes her sigh and leave it alone. She does encourage him to see a new therapist though, increasingly aware of his unimpeded anxiety over soulmarks and everything else. He feels guilty at his reaction to her concern so he reluctantly agrees to talk to someone about it. They’re better than the last one, and though they specialize in soulmate-related anxiety they quickly latch on to the fact that there are a lot more pressing things endangering Jack’s mental health. His visits are upped to thrice a week, and his prescription is swapped for something less intensive. It doesn’t rid him of anxiety, but it does help. He ends up making some changes to his life that help to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, and everything begins to feel more manageable.

When he’s drafted first pick to the Providence Falconers he’s in a tentatively good place. He’s happy about his team, pleased for Kent as he heads to Las Vegas with the Aces, and feels surprisingly positive despite the pressure the draft had put on him. The future looks brighter, clearer, and as he settles in during his first night in his new Providence apartment, he feels the urge to look at his words for the first time in years.

They still sting when he sees them, an old wound reopened, but he takes deep breaths. The writing is prettier than he remembers, and he almost chuckles at the thought that there’s someone out there with his god-awful handwriting on their body. He sobers up almost instantly, though, running a finger across the words like he did so many years ago. He knows what they mean: that his soulmate doesn’t want him, that he’s a disappointment, that he’s never going to have a relationship like his mother and father do with his soulmate. As he stares at the words he thinks that at least now he can probably deal with it. He’s got a great team and a promising future; a best friend; a much less strained relationship with his father. He knows, now, that he’s not a disappointment to his parents, even if he is to himself or his soulmate. He lives in a nice apartment in a nice area. He thinks he might get a dog.

Despite the hurt they cause, Jack finds himself pressing a soft kiss to the skin of his words, closing his eyes for a brief moment, desperately trying and failing to imagine a way someone could say these words and still want him.

Oh no, he recites in his head, those words that have been impossible to forget, it can’t be you.

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Derek Hale Imagine- A Living Hell

“Who’s there?” you asked, after hearing a loud noise from behind you. Recently Beacon Hills fell host to another supernatural threat, something called the Kanima. None of you had enough knowledge on it, so you all decided to split up In order to work out who it was and what it wanted. Originally, you were assigned to do research with Stiles but you got bored and told him you were going for food. You decided to do a little research of your own. When you were hanging out at Derek’s you heard him tell Isaac something about it being Lydia. The perks of being friends with Scott’s and Derek’s pack was that you knew everything, it wasn’t so fun however when they each try to pry information from you. But anyway, you knew Lydia liked to sit on the rooftop of the old abandoned warehouse at night. You knew this because you’ve been with her on a numerous of occasions, it’s the perfect place to take sunset or night time aesthetics. Even if it was her you knew it wouldn’t be intentional, you just wanted to know so you could help her. You thought it was a great idea for you to go on your own, with nothing but your phone flashlight and knife that you had no idea how to use. When whatever was behind you didn’t respond you knew it wasn’t one of the pack or some sort of angry security guard. You slowly turned around, to be met with a large lizard creature. “Oh shit” you murmured, trying to shuffle backwards discreetly. But with every inch you moved backwards it moved forwards two. Your shaky hand reached into your jean pocket slowly for the knife, you looked down to realise it was no longer there. In fact you could see it glisten at you from the other side of the roof, where it must of fallen out. You eventually stopped moving when you reached the very edge of the roof and heard a bit crumble underneath your feet. You gently moved your head, trying to figure out your next move. “Stay still” Scott said quietly as him and Stiles crept onto the roof. You nod your head, looking everywhere other than at the Kanima. Scott grew out his nails and fangs, the creature heard this because its attention went from you to him as it swung around in one brisk movement. You looked down at your leg, seeing a rip in your leggings. Your leg went numb within a matter of seconds. “NO!” Stiles shouted as they both tried to run over to you. The Kanima managed to catch and push Scott, but Stiles got through. He fell to the floor and tried to catch your arm as you fell over the edge, but it was too late. You must of blanked out, because you don’t remember feeling the pain of you hitting the floor.

Your woke up to the colour white and the sound of a heart rate monitor beeping obnoxiously loud. You let out a loud exhale and glanced to the figure sitting on the chair next to you. “Hey, how’re you feeling?” Lydia asked with a soft smile. “I’m fine” you shrugged, sitting up. “Woah, slow down” Allison said in response to your sudden movement. They were both sharing the chair because technically only one of them was allowed in at once, but they wouldn’t accept it. “It’s ok, it doesn’t hurt” you said rubbing your eyes. Lydia and Allison exchanged looks, when they realised you furrowed your brows. “Why doesn’t it hurt? This should hurt!” you stated, pulling the blanket off you. “Y/N, just breathe” Lydia said, as they both jumped up. You pulled the drip out of your arm and also stood up. You examined your body, seeing nothing but a few small cuts and a bruise or two. By now Scott and Stiles had burst in, after hearing all the commotion. “Is everything all right?” Scott asked. You noticed there was a large padded plaster on your hip. You began to peel it off slowly, while the others winced. “I wouldn’t do that” Stiles said, covering his eyes. You pulled it off, revealing nothing. Absolutely nothing. They sighed in relief and then waited for your reaction. “This isn’t happening” you mumbled, shaking your head. Your friends carried on talking to you, but you stopped listening. You grabbed your spare clothes from the bottom of your bed and stormed out of the room. You could hear them all calling after you, but it was like you had tunnel vision. There was something else more important on your mind.

“Derek, you better open the door!” you practically screamed while banging on it with your new found force. After a minute he opened the door, but he couldn’t even look at you. “You selfish, inconsiderate, compete and utter dick!” you stated, as he closed it behind you. “I guess you’re welcome” he said as serious as ever. “You bit me Derek, I never asked for this” you ran your hands through your hair in frustration. “I saved your life, you seem to be forgetting that” he rolled his eyes. “Do you expect me to be forever grateful?” you asked sarcastically.“ I did this for you, Y/N!” Derek shouted. “None of this is for me, you did this because you didn’t want to deal with the grief!” you retaliated. “No one wanted to watch you die, maybe you’re the selfish one for thinking like that” he snarled. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve made my life a living hell!” your voice was higher than usual because you were trying not to cry. “By making you faster, stronger, younger for longer-” he listed. “By making me uncontrollable, scared, vicious, a monster-”  you finished for him. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you” he sighed. “You have no idea” you exclaimed, storming out before he could say another word. He can save his bullshit speeches for Isaac, Erica and soon to be Boyd. You weren’t buying any of his protective act, he didn’t do it for you. He did it for himself, for comfort or his own power gain. You didn’t care, you were done with Derek Hale.

“So…you’re a werewolf now?” Stiles asked. “Looks like it” you said, looking down at your hot chocolate. “Can I ask you a question?” he looked at you sympathetically. “You just did” you said, raising your eyebrows. You looked at him from the corner of your eye noticing he was still waiting, “Sure” you huffed. “You didn’t want to be saved, my question is why?” he asked. “Erm, I guess I don’t want to be an out of control maniac twice a month” you answered shortly. “I mean the real reason-” he intervened. You took a deep breath and it just sort of poured out of you, “I’m not like Scott, I’m not brave or selfless. I act like I’m not afraid of anything, but honestly I’m scared all the time. People would kill to be a werewolf, or to be involved in this kind of stuff. But honestly, I would do anything just to be able to walk out of my house only having to worry about grades and boys, not keeping myself and my friends from dying”. “Y/N, you’re one of, if not the bravest person I know. Not many people would go looking for the Kanima on their own as a human. Plus, you did it for Lydia” he reassured. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, normally I only tell-” you cut yourself off. “Derek?” he asked. You nod your head and sighed, “I was so horrible to him, when all he did was try to save me”. “You love him, don’t you” Stiles smiled, giving you a nudge. “You looked up from your hot chocolate trying to conceal a smile. “It doesn’t matter, the feeling isn’t mutual anyway” you shrugged. “Well, you didn’t see him the other night. You know, after you plummeted from a four- story building” he said, taking a loud sip of his drink. “I’m familiar with said accident and why, what do you mean?” you asked curiously. “He was all over the place, he ran over and knelt beside you. From what I could see from above he was actually crying, until his eyes glowed red and he growled. He was there for about two minutes holding you, but when you didn’t wake up he had no other choice but to bite you” he claimed, taking great delight in telling you after watching you try to hide your smile in your shoulder. “You mean Derek Hale, sour wolf cried over me?” you were sceptical to say the least. “Don’t tell him this but Scott swore he heard him whisper, ‘you’re going to hate me for this’ before he bit you, so please go and prove him wrong” Stiles hinted. You gave him an understanding smile and kissed his cheek.

“Derek” you said a lot quieter, knocking on his door. This time he didn’t answer. “Derek please, listen I’m sorry” you said, waiting to hear so much as a scoff or sarcastic comment from the other side. “ I was out of order the other day and I came to apologise with all the kindness in my heart-” you added, still waiting for a reply. “Plus the full moon is coming up and I cant do this without you” you were persistent. “Okay, that’s not why I came here. I erm, I don’t exactly know how to say this… I like you Derek and you never know when the last time you’ll see someone in this town is. I’d go insane knowing the last time I spoke to you we argued” he was still giving you nothing. “Just open the door, I’m trying yo make amends here and you’re making this twice as hard”. You suddently heard a squeak from a floorboard behind you. You turned around quickly. “And how do you suppose you’re going to make amends?” he asked, smirking. “Like this” you said, running at him. He hoisted you up with his muscular arms as you pressed a sweet kiss on his lips, awaiting a reaction. Derek leant your back against his front door, he pressed his lips to yours again. It became more passionate and desperate. You both smiled against each others lips, “You have no idea how long I waited for this” he claimed. “I think I have a rough idea” you furthered. He pushed his door wide open and slammed it closed behind the pair of you. And you certainly did have a large make up session so to speak.

Sorry this one kind of sucks but Hale, I tried. Beg someone to send me a request I need some inspiration for my current writers block x

Miserable Lester, Part 16: Those Guys Meet Marius, And So On

Okay, so one fine day the Stanley Yelnats of this story, Bossuet, is chilling outside the cafe where the Alphabetters always congregate. He’s daydreaming, and thinking not-too-concernedly about how he got kicked out of law school the day before, and how this means he’s gonna have to change some of his plans for the future, sure, he guesses. This guy really is admirably zen about worrisome stuff happening to him, although I suppose with his luck the main alternatives would be to get all defeatist and bitter and self-pitying or to retreat into flat-out denial, so. Suddenly a cabriolet goes by, moving at an unusually slow pace, like, you could jog faster than this thing. It’s like whoever’s inside it isn’t sure where he’s going. That piques Bossuet’s interest, so he looks inside the cab (not hard, because it’s so damn slow), and discovers that it contains a Marius Pontmercy. Bossuet knows he’s a Marius Pontmercy because he’s clutching a big overnight bag with his name written prominently on the front.

“Hey,” Bossuet goes like, hailing the cab to a stop. “Marius Pontmercy? You’re Marius Pontmercy? I’ve been looking for you, man!”

Marius is all, “Who are you? Do we know each other or something?”

Bossuet is all, “Nope!”

“Then HOW DID YOU KNOW MY NAME??” goes Marius, still holding a bag with his full name clearly printed on it in large block letters facing out the window of the cab.

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