to have my hallway

wow i cant wait to have my own apartment n come running down the hallway to my door in my heels after a long day at work and opening my door and hearing the sound of my keys hitting the counter and looking at what mail arrived that day and then going to the bathroom and taking care of myself and applying lotions to my entire body n applying face masks and listening to the way you look tonight by frank sinatra on vinyl n dancing around slowly while wearing nothing but my cute lace bra & undies n a dark red silky lace robe that i havent even wrapped around my body yet and makin myself a snack. i cant wait to get to that.

YOI Skaters As Things I Have Done
  • Viktor: Collapsed in the hallway because my friend wasn't paying enough attention to me, spent hundreds of dollars on a gift for same friend, and pissed off a bunch of my other friends by declaring said friend as my favorite
  • Yurio: Accidentally kicked one of my friends in the head, then laughing when she got pissed
  • Yuuri: Woke my mom up at 2am because of all the racket I was making in the kitchen while stress baking cookies
  • Christophe: Showing my friends photos of my boobs because "don't they look so good in this photo?" and getting the response "your boobs are fantastic"
  • Phichit: Keeping a folder of all the ugly selfies my best friend has ever sent me to give to her future boyfriend
  • Mila: Picked up friend and ran to PE because "your legs are too short to keep up with mine, either buy roller skates and hold onto my sleeve or let me carry you, we don't have all day"
  • Georgi: Sent my girlfriend at the time 500 seconds of snapchats in under 10 minutes before she woke up and then continued to send more after she woke up
  • Sara: Gave an hour long lecture to one of my best friends who I consider to be family on gender roles and why I generally dislike men who aren't fictional that some how turned into me listing reasons why girls are beautiful and I Love them
  • Michele: Have given the same two pieces of dating advice to one of my friends for years, "dump him" or "give me your phone, I'm going to fight him"
  • Emil: Hugged one of my best friends for over an hour, actually it was closer to two, I only let go when I fell asleep
  • JJ: Talked for a full hour about how hot I am to one of my friends and then after a few minutes of silence, whispered "oh god, I really hate myself" and then curled up into a ball and cried
  • Minami: Consistently terrifies friends with shrieking flying tackle hugs from behind, screams of terror usually ensue
  • Seung-gil: Robotically wrote the Bee Movie Script on the classroom board when we had a sub, "Do you have work you are supposed to be doing?" "Yes." "Is this it?" "No, do you have any more questions?" "I- uh, no, I guess not."
  • Guang Hong: Texted someone that if they messed with my best friend I would brutally murder them and then followed up with blushing emojis and flower emojis
  • Leo: Listened to the same song on repeat 12 hours a day, for over a week, until I could hear the song playing in my dreams
  • Bonus, Coaches + Teachers:
  • Yakov: Some how became the mom friend despite the fact that I can't even take care of myself, "I swear to god if you skip physics oNE MORE TIME", "Do your homework, I know where you sleep", "Oh for fuck's sake, come over to my house, I'm not going to listen to you bitch for weeks because you didn't want to disinfect your cuts"
  • Minako: Was running a high fever during my physics final to the point where I was fading in and out of consciousness, and aced it
  • Lilia: Developed a reputation for having terrifying kicks after I realized that the men in my karate class couldn't hold back their punches if they were too busy avoiding getting nailed in the balls
  • Celestino: Refused to stop smiling and laughing for a full day, actually got kicked out of class because I laughed so much
Silence // Spencer Reid

Warnings: If you like happy endings, this fic isn’t for you.


Originally posted by visions-of-brighter-love


There were many things in life you hadn’t planned for. For starters you’d never planned to move to DC. It had been an impulse decision when you felt suffocated in your own state, and it was there, and it was welcoming. You’d never planned to rent out the apartment next to a certain FBI agent. You could barely afford the rent but after looking for a cheaper place and seeing the safety risks, you’d decided to take the one bedroom apartment.

You hadn’t planned on having your purse stolen on your way home one night. You had dragged your feet on your way home afterwards, a mix of anger and disappointment with humanity filling you. You groaned when you realized the landlord was still out and wouldn’t be available to open your door that night. Instead you simply took a seat on the hard floor and hoped fate would send something, anything, good your way. Much to your surprise, fate’s idea of a good thing was a tall gorgeous brunette.

“Are you ok?” Spencer asked as he saw you leaning against your door, utterly defeated by the long day you’d just endured. He himself had just gotten in from a case and was surprised to find someone in the hallway so late at night.

“I don’t have my keys,” you sighed deeply, “I won’t be able to get into my apartment until the morning when I can ask the landlord for a spare.”

He looked you over as if assessing if you were telling the truth and whether or not you’d be any danger to him. You weren’t offended by it. The city was a dangerous place and it wasn’t uncommon to be wary of even your neighbors.

“You can sleep on my couch if you want. It’ll be more comfortable than the floor,” he offered as he opened the door to his own place.  

“You promise you won’t kill me?” you asked jokingly. He chuckled, finding the question more amusing than you expected him to.

“Trust me, I’m not a killer,” he assured. He smiled and motioned for you to follow him. “Come on. It’s only a night.”

You hadn’t planned to spend the night on his couch, and you definitely hadn’t planned on falling in love with him either. That just sort of happened on its own due to the way the two of you clicked, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Simple conversations turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into dinner dates. Dinner dates turned into dates that lasted well into the night, and even bled over into the next day until the sunrise shining through the windows let Spencer know it was time to get up for work. Spencer himself hadn’t expected to fall in love either, but soon enough he found himself in your bed most nights with a joyous grin on his face and you in his arms.

You hadn’t planned on many things, and being pregnant was one of them.

Spencer was in shock when you told him, just as you had been. You had been on birth control. He had used protection. The possibilities of getting pregnant had been minuscule, so tiny that the idea had never crossed his mind. It’d never even crossed yours until your period didn’t come. Even then you had been doubtful. You’d missed periods before due to side effects of being on the pill, but you had decided to take a test just to reassure yourself that you weren’t pregnant but the reassurance never came.

That one positive test turned into four after you rushed to the store in a desperate need for it to be negative. One after the other, they all read the same.

Both of you had sat in complete silence that night. You sat in front of the television, the sound muted the second you had announced that you had something important to share. Your mind was clouded and you were unable to formulate a single plan. All you could feel was fear. You were young. Unlike Spencer, you didn’t make enough money to be able to care for a child. Hell, you could barely afford your home. All of it simply made your stomach turn in nerves. Meanwhile, Spencer’s mind was spinning with new thoughts. He would have to take time off. He would have to find a way to be at home more often. As much as he adored both Hotch and JJ, he was aware of how often they left their children behind and he wasn’t willing to do the same.

“We’ll be ok,” Spencer finally spoke as he leaned back into the sofa. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, his hand giving you a gentle but reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be ok.”


Within a month Spencer’s worried outlook had completely changed. He was excited, eager to become a father. He had kept the news a secret from the rest of the team simply because he wanted to enjoy something by himself for a moment. He figured he would let them know when your stomach had grown into a tiny bump, a physical proof of the life growing inside.

You’d gone to the doctor and had been told to try to rest as much as possible. A weak cervix. That’s what he had said. You instantly thought back to the distant memory of your own mother losing a child. You were just a kid, but you remembered the way your mother had cried. That sort of grief would be burned in your memory no matter how hard you tried to get rid of it. The revelation instantly made you nervous and so you decided to keep the news of the pregnancy to yourself.

Spencer had since then done his best to tend to your every need. Every moment he wasn’t on a case was spent by your side. He was attentive, obsessive even as he lectured you on what you could and couldn’t do in your state. You’d roll your eyes when he’d refuse to even let you stand at times.

“I have to pee, Spence,” you laughed when he tried to push you back into bed. He grinned sheepishly,  aware that he had been just a tad too overbearing the past weeks.

“Just don’t take too long. You need to lay down,” he replied.

“I’m allowed to walk. I just can’t do heavy lifting or strenuous exercise. If I don’t get up from bed I’ll lose all my muscle,” you frowned.

“Just take care of yourself. Please,” he begged. 

“Of course.”


Life, it turned out, had its own plans.

It came out of nowhere while you showered one morning. A sharp pain that begun in your stomach and stretched to your back. You gasped, unsure of what had caused it until you saw the blood begin to flow down your legs only to be washed down the drain with the rest of the water. You watched the red droplets turn pink and be gone in an instant.

You went still as the pain worsened, leaning onto the shower wall as the blood turned into clots. You watched in horror as your body cleaned itself out. The blood clots come out thicker, some made of tissue and not disintegrating as quickly down the drain. You could feel the life leave your body and crumpled into yourself.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, curled up into the bathtub as the shower overhead continued to run. Your body shook with your sobbing, so loud even the tenant beneath you wondered what was happening. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore. The warm water turned ice cold as the hours passed, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. In that moment you had lost all the will to live as your child had been lost. You remained silent, as if you had lost your voice along with any happiness you had felt that day.

Spencer found you like that. He had been away for a week on a difficult case and had thought of you the entire time. He had let himself in with a bright smile on his face that quickly vanished. When he walked into an empty bedroom with only the sound of water running, he had immediately been struck him with a gut wrenching feeling.

He felt himself lose his breath at the sight of you. Your skin was raised in goosebumps from the freezing water and your hair stuck to your face, concealing bloodshot eyes. You looked so fragile as you laid against the bathtub, your eyes dead of any emotion. He hurriedly rushed over to turn the shower off, his eyes widening when he saw the small amount of blood that still trickled out of you.

“Y/N, what did you do?”

You couldn’t answer. A choked sob left your throat at his question, at his accusation. As if you had done something. As if you had purposely caused this.

“I don’t understand,” he said again as he took a step back. His hands flew into his hair, grabbing at it in an odd desperation. He thought back to the various pictures you’d sent while he was out and recalled the conversations about your mother visiting and the activities she wanted to do. “I told you not to eat unhealthy food! I told you to stay in bed when your mother wanted to go for walks!”

You cringed as his voice rose with anger. A painful shiver shot through you at the cold air hitting your skin, but it wasn’t as hurtful as the words that were spewing from Spencer’s mouth. His words burned through you, the venom seeping straight into your heart and causing it to ache.

“I’m gone for one week! One week!” he cried, his emotions overflowing at the thought of the loss. “One week and you can’t take care of yourself! God, why are you so irresponsible! You knew this!”

“Go away,” you finally managed to say, your voice just above a whisper. You hugged yourself and curled up tighter in the porcelain bathtub. You couldn’t bear to hear his words. You couldn’t handle the fact he blamed you for this.

“Y/N, I just don’t get it. Why would you-”

“Go away!” you yelled as hot tears streaked down your face. Your vision blurred as your breathing became erratic. You shut your eyes, not wanting to exist anymore.

“No. Look at you. You’re still bleeding, you have to go to a hospital. You have to explain what you-”

“I don’t want you here,” you snapped, your anger rising at his constant blame. How dare he. How could someone who you loved, who claimed to love you, ever speak so ill of you in such a hard time. Where was the compassion? Instead all you got were harsh words and blame.  "I don’t want you anymore! Go!“

“Y/N-”

“GO!”

Spencer’s heart felt as if it had been ripped out when he heard the anger and grief rip through your voice. In an instant the overwhelming waves of emotions inside him calmed and he realized what he had done.

He had blamed you. He had blamed you for something he logically knew wasn’t actually your fault. His own anguish at losing a child had clouded his mind and made him forget that you were the one who had physically lost a baby. You had felt the life inside you leave and it had left you broken. And here he was, screaming at you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, instantly filling with regret. He bent down and reached for you, noticing for the first time how cold your skin was and how alarmingly weak you appeared to be.

“Don’t touch me,” you whispered as you flinched away from his fingertips. His heart shattered as he watched your eyes stare blankly at the drain, the tub lightly stained pink from all the blood you had lost.

“I…,” he couldn’t speak. You took one look at him and he knew. He saw it on your face. You wouldn’t ever want him back after his outburst and the accusations he had so carelessly thrown around. He saw the heartbreak in your eyes that he would never be able to mend.

And so he left, the image of you broken forever burned into his mind.

anonymous asked:

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” spideypool!!

Peter was more exhausted than he had been in weeks. He had been so good about sleep lately–he had even made a schedule to keep himself from having another falling-asleep-during-an-acid-lab incident–but this week had decided to be a serious dick to him.

So he found it perfectly understandable to skip his last class of the day (which was advanced mechanical engineering, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t catch up later) in favor of going home and napping. Because he had almost used his phone as a coffee stirrer an hour ago, and that seemed to make it clear the coffee wouldn’t really cover only having six hours of sleep in the past two nights combined. 

Peter yawned for about the millionth time that day and scrubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to his apartment door. He started to lazily pat at his pockets for his keys with his other hand–and came up empty.

He frowned and patted himself down again. No jingle. No pointy key-ends. Frowning harder, he dropped his backpack and started to paw through it, even though he rarely kept his keys anywhere but his pockets (they’d been stolen from his backpack once and he still wasn’t over it). Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, he came up with nothing.

Peter briefly felt the urge to cry. All he wanted was a nap. He thought back through his day. He didn’t take them out when he was in the coffee shop–he didn’t even sit down. From what he could recall, he didn’t take them out in class either (because why would he?). Which left him with one, horribly stupid option–they were still sitting on his kitchen counter.

Inside his apartment. Because he was an idiot. 

Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” he snapped at the door.

Despite being a functional adult who could deal with this problem in a rational way, Peter was very tired. So he did a rather petty thing and kicked his door, hard. 

Crying was seeming like an increasingly appealing option. Peter’s landlord already didn’t like him. He didn’t need to give him another reason to think he was a bad tenant (which, to be fair, he was, because with his superhero agenda–and his superhero friends–his apartment had been through a lot) by saying he’d lost his keys…again.

Peter sighed and sat down, leaning against his door and throwing his backpack next to him. He honestly didn’t think he had the energy to suit up and climb up to his window. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his window.

But he still needed to get in his apartment. Maybe he could magically learn how to pick locks without any effort. Or he could see if any of his neighbors would pick his lock for him–

Wait. I know someone who can pick locks.

Peter was both suddenly grateful and suddenly dreading what he knew he had to do. He sighed very hard and pulled out his phone and for the first time EVER dialed a number he never thought he would need to.

After two rings, he got an answer.

“Deadpool speaking.” Wade’s voice growled at him.

“Wade? It’s–Spider-man.” Peter awkwardly finished, almost just saying ‘Peter’.

The change in Wade’s tone was instant. “Yo, Spidey!” he screeched.

Peter winced and immediately regretted his decision. “Hi, Wade. I need a favor.”

“…Is it a murder-y favor? Because I’ve been trying not to do that so much and–”

“It’s not a job, Wade. I’m locked out of my apartment and I need you to pick my lock.”

There was a pause, and Peter swears he heard a snicker. “Did you web your keys to the wall or something?” Wade joked, then started to poorly cover up a laugh.

“I’m hanging up.” Peter snapped, and started to.

“Wait, wait!” Wade shouted, and Peter didn’t hang up. “I’ll help you, Spidey. Can you text me the address?”

“Yeah. Please show up before I have to sleep in my hallway.” Peter requested, then hung up. He typed out his address and sent it to Wade, who responded with a thumbs-up emoji, a winking-tongue-face emoji that Peter never understood, and informed him he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Peter sighed and pulled out his Spider-man mask from his backpack. He really didn’t want to put it on, but Wade didn’t know his identity and Peter didn’t really think trusting him with it was a good idea.

Then again, he had just given him his address. That was almost worse, in a way. Wade was unarguably the most unstable man he knew, and he was coming over to pick Peter’s lock for him. 

Peter briefly wondered if this was how he was destined to die. Not by some super-villain, but by letting a crazy person know his address. 

I’m literally letting an axe-murderer into my house. Oh my god, this is how I die.

Peter was still busy imaging scenarios of Wade brutally murdering him when Wade showed up and raised an eyebrow at Peter’s sad scene. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which was surprising, though he still had both his mask and gloves on.

“Spidey?” he asked, then it clicked why Wade was looking at him funny.

Peter had forgotten to ever put his mask on.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Wade.”

Wade suddenly slapped a hand over his eyes. “You forgot your mask.”

Peter sighed. “I guess I did. But I also gave you my address, so I figured if you were gonna murder me I couldn’t stop you.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’m tired. Please break into my apartment so I can sleep.” Peter said, gesturing at the door handle by his head.

Wade chuckled and walked over. He knelt down next to Peter and started to work on the lock with a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices. “So, not that I’m complaining, but why did you call me for this? You’ve never even used my number before.”

“Long story short, my landlord hates me already and everyone else would never let me live down leaving my keys in my apartment and not realizing it until now.”

That’s fair.” Wade shrugged, then the door made a click and Wade turned the handle, and to Peter’s sleepy amazement, it opened. “Ta-da. All better.”

Peter gaped at how fast Wade had done that. After a second of chuckling at him, Wade offered him a hand. Peter took it and was heaved to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and entered, expecting Wade to follow.

But he didn’t. Wade stayed in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Peter turned back and looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. Well, a lost puppy who was trying to see as much as he possibly could from a doorway. Peter sighed. “Just come in.”

Wade giggled and ran in, immediately going everywhere. “I’m in Spider-man’s apartment!”

Peter slowly followed him, eventually ended up in his bedroom, where Wade was fiddling with things on his desk. “Don’t break anything.” he ordered, then promptly collapsed onto his bed face-down.

After a moment, he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. “Aw, is Spidey sleepy?” Wade cooed.

“Fuck off.” Peter snapped, and Wade laughed.

“That’s fair. I like your apartment, by the way. Tasteful.”

Peter snorted. “Does it accurately show off my college student budget?”

“Impeccably.” Wade said, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Dude, how old is this mattress?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it witnessed JFK’s murder, to be honest.”

Wade laughed, then they fell into silence. Peter was honestly half-asleep before Wade broke the silence again, and even then he didn’t really wake up. “Should I go?”

“Hmm?” Peter asked, turning to look at him.

“Should I leave? You seem about two seconds away from hibernation.”

Peter shrugged. “Probably. I’m gonna sleep for about fifty hours now.”

Wade smiled at him and sat up. “That’s fair. See you on your next patrol?”

“Considering you know where I live, I don’t think I can stop you from showing up to all of them.”

“Probably not. Sleep well, Spidey.”

Peter just hummed an answer and snuggled deeper into his pillow, listening to Wade’s footsteps get fainter–then get louder again.

Wade poked his head back into Peter’s room. “For the record, I like your face.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Go home, Wade.”

“It’s a nice face. Excellent face. That hair is killer. Do you condition?”

Wade.”

Right, right. I’m going. Call me if you need a number for an actual locksmith, baby boy.” Wade chuckled, then left for real.

Peter threw his cover onto himself, rolled over into the spot Wade had made surprisingly warm in his short time there, and slept better than he had in what felt like years. 

The Chamber of Secrets, a summary
  • Dobby: Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts!
  • Harry: The fuck are you Hogwarts4lyfe
  • Dobby: *Pudding crashes and burns worse than Snape's love life*
  • Uncle Vernon: HARRY DIDJA PUT YER NAME IN THE GOBLET AHV FYA- I mean *clears throat* NO FOOD FOR YOU BITCH WELCOME TO CONCENTRATION CAMP DURSLEY
  • Harry: fuck
  • Ron: *mass breakout*
  • Vernon: *falls out window*
  • Fred'n'George: sup
  • Mrs. Weasley: BoYs YaLl DoNe It NoW GeT yo SoRrY AsSeS oVeR HeRe- except you Harry nothing's ever your fault an btw thanks for almost getting my son killed last year
  • Ginny: *highkey stalker*
  • Floo powder: lol you thought things would go right in your life
  • Draco: *exists*
  • Harry: He'S FuCkInG Up tO SoMeThInG
  • Hagrid: *saves Harry from being raped*
  • Hermione: sup
  • Lockhart: OMG IT'S HARRY POTTER HERE TO BOOST MY HALLWAY CRED- I mean- *coughs* you have a few fans yourself, I hear- HERETAKEMYBOOKSTAKETHEMALL
  • Lucius: *is an ass*
  • Aurthur: *fights a bitch*
  • Lucius: *here have this book it's pretty and talks to you but be careful it may possess you*
  • Platform 9 3/4: *is an ass*
  • Ron: Let's just take the flying car illegally instead of just owling Hogwarts or waiting for my parents
  • Harry: k
  • Car: *eighties action music*
  • Harry: can you hear that?
  • Ron: we must be getting close!
  • Harry: hold on-
  • *music grows louder*
  • Hogwarts express with Thomas face on it: DUN DUN DUN DUUN DUN DUN, DUUUUN
  • Car: *crashes*
  • Tree: *is an ass*
  • McGonagall: Idfc just go away here have a sandwich
  • Hermione: sup
  • Shit: hello friends
  • Wall: ThE ChAmBeR Of SeCreTS HaS BeEN OPenEd EnEmIeS oF The HeiR BeWArE
  • Mrs. Norris: hanging by noose from ceiling
  • Harry Ron and Hermione: *are there*
  • Filch: Y'all killed my cat IMMA KILL YA
  • Dumbledore: Bruh you accusing the great Harry Potter?!? If it was anyone else I wouldn't care but since it's Harry SHUT UP
  • Malfoy: *is a slithery Slytherin*
  • Harry: He's the heir
  • Hermione: *starts making potion*
  • Myrtle: *moans*
  • Colin: *takes pictures of Harry*
  • Harry: ew fuck stop
  • Lockhart: StOp YoU cAn'T bE MoRe PopUlAr thAn mE- I mean *coughs* it's unwise to hand out pictures until you're as famous as me
  • Harry: *gets detention* *is worse than Umbridge's blood quill* *hears hissing* *doesn't suspect it could be a snake which is the animal that hisses*
  • Hermione and Ron: sup
  • Harry: can you hear that
  • Ron and Hermione: wtf no you must be insane
  • Harry: lol tru
  • Lockhart: *has dueling club*
  • Snape: *kicks his ass with the disarming spell*
  • Lockhart: totally meant for that to happen now give me a moment while I restart my heart
  • Hermione: *is killed by Millicent but somehow manages to get a hair*
  • Snape: Harry fight Draco
  • Harry and Draco: *fight*
  • Draco: *snakeness intensifies*
  • Harry: (to snake) bruh calm down mate
  • Snake: k
  • Snape: *kills snake*
  • Ernie: Bruh you tryina kill me
  • Harry: lol no but I should asshole
  • Ron: Harry why didn't you tell me you had a completely dead ability when you didn't even know it existed or that it was rare
  • Harry: idk snakes are cool
  • Person: *petrified*
  • Teachers: maybe we should give a shit
  • Dumbledore: lol nope
  • Quidditch: *happens*
  • Draco: training for the ballet, Potter?
  • Harry: *trains for ballet* *breaks arm*
  • Lockhart: OMG GET OUT OF MY WAY I HAVE TI HEAL HARRY IT WILL BOST MY READERSHIP I mean *coughs* I've done this a thousand times
  • Harry's Arm: *is bendy*
  • Harry: *goes to infirmary* *hears extremely important information*
  • Polyjuice: *happens*
  • Draco: blah blah blah mud blood blah blah blah poor blah blah blah whydoesntpotterloveme
  • Draco: *isnt heir*
  • Harry and Ron: well shit *get the hell outta doge*
  • Hermione: *is cat*
  • Harry: *finds moist book in a girl's bathroom* Imma take this
  • Harry: *ignores more murderous hissing*
  • Diary: hello friend no more sadness today
  • Harry: seems legit
  • Diary: here look at this memory I'm Tom Riddle
  • Harry: k
  • Memory: *happens*
  • Harry: boi why da fk you lyin
  • Hagrid: *is taken to Azkaban because we needed to introduce it for the next book*
  • Harry and Ron: *follow spiders*
  • Spider dude: We do not speak the name of the giant snake in your pipes now excuse me while my children murder you
  • Car: *is real hero of the story*
  • Hermione: *is petrified*
  • Harry and Ron: Shit
  • Hermione: *has clue casually hidden in her hand but takes weeks to find*
  • Harry: ohh it's a Basilisk dats why I can hear it
  • Ginny: *is taken*
  • Professors: *finally give a shit*
  • Lockhart: lol nope
  • Harry: lol yup
  • Myrtle: yah that sink with the snake on it. I mean, it would've been helpful to tell you about it before but whatever have fun
  • Harry: k thx
  • Myrtle: Harry when you die you should stay in here and fuck me
  • Ron: bye bitch
  • Harry: *hisses*
  • Draco: *in dungeons* *gets boner*
  • Chamber: *is opened*
  • Lockhart: I LOVE YOU HARRY! I mean- *coughs* say goodbye to your memories imma just take credit for your stories like I did for erryone else
  • *uses Ron's broken wand* *hits himself* *cavern collapses conveniently blocking Ron and Douchehart on one side and Harry on the other*
  • Ron: lol rip
  • Harry: k bye
  • Ginny: *is almost dead*
  • Harry: shit
  • Tom: *is hot* *appears menacingly*
  • Harry: sup Tom wanna help
  • Tom: lol nope *takes Harry's wand*
  • Harry: Bruh give me my wand
  • Tom: Snakey go kill this twelve year old
  • Harry: *runs*
  • Snake: *is blinded by random phoenix*
  • Harry: *stabs snake with magic sword* *gets bit* *stabs book*
  • Ginny: sup omg Harry that look like it hurts
  • Harry: *gives speech*
  • Fawkes: *cries*
  • Harry: yay I'm healed
  • Fawkes: gets them past all the boulders magically
  • All: *are free*
  • Dobby: *socks are lyfe*
  • Harry: *roast*
  • Credits: *roll*

You know it’s interesting to think back to all the interviews Harry’s done over the passed couple of weeks.. He kept insisting that he doesn’t like to tell people what songs are about and leaves them open to everyone’s interpretation as everyone experiences songs and lyrics differently. He was pretty adamant to get that across. And now that we’re starting to see some of these lyrics, I feel like that was almost a warning? Perhaps a sort of message to tell us “these lyrics aren’t necessarily my truth, but could be for someone else” if that makes any sense. Just because he’s singing certain lyrics doesn’t mean they really mean something to him.

I’m really bad at explaining things!!! but i just randomly noticed this lol do I make any sense????

it’s funny tho bc i used to spend SO much time busting into abandoned houses and Actually Trespassing while wearing overalls and just generally being a ratty 16 year old instead of just like….standing outside of them in my bellevue biz-cas clothes. i’ve never been caught/yelled at ever until today

i would just like…hang out in them w my friends in high school for hours, and never even THOUGHT about encountering another human in one of them. and we’d take stuff, the huge mural i have in my hallway was pried off the wall of the house i have tattooed on my arm. 2 springs ago 3 friends and i went into an abandoned house in redmond and we were running all over it taking pictures and stuff and just hanging out for prob 15 minutes until we went upstairs and were poking around the finished attic bedroom. after we had been in there a solid two minutes someone looked at the closet/crawl space and there was a goddamn human foot attached to a human leg sticking out of it. we ran out of there SO FAST and stood in the front yard waiting for someone to poke their head out and watch us and/or murder us but no one ever did. 

“Guys My Age” Jeff Hardy  – the reader has been flirting and playing games with Jeff Hardy for months, but Jeff has always had just enough hesitancy about the age difference between the two to actually act on it, but will that change?

a/n: listen to the song “guys my age” by hey violet when you read this, I promise it’ll make the experience a thousand times better. also it’s a long one, so buckle up for he ride and enjoy

Tagged: @outlawtornsnm @lexisbliss @ridingmoxley @vsturgeon5489 @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @ittybittywriter

WARNINGS: language, spanking, smut, lap dance, etc.


I sat in catering with my girls, leftover food and drinks scattering the table in front of us. We were all laughing and catching each other up on our lives and then some. Renee was currently dishing the details of her and Dean’s fun, spur-of-the-moment marriage, but I was only partially listening to the story (that I already heard on the phone the night it happened) because I could feel his eyes on me.

“And that was it; it was perfect. It was exactly who me and Dean are and I’m… I’m just so happy,” Renee gushed. She was met with a chorus of “Aw’s” from the girls around us, but I just rolled my eyes.

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The Foxes as "Things That Have Happened At My School"

Dan: *small explosion noises* *looks into the hallway* *about 20 kids and 3 teachers jumping on and filling the hallway with oversized bubble wrap*

Kevin:
Principal at an assembly: All the athletes will be participating in a blindfolded egg race for our amusement.

Andrew: *about 20 voices screaming from down the hall that sounds like mass murder* *no one looks up*

Renee:
English teacher: call the school counselor down here
Student: why?
Teacher: *holds up a frog she got from???* she hates frogs

Allison:
History teacher: everyone grab a ball we’re gonna see if we can break the intercom before the announcements end

Neil: *strange noise* what the hell- *looks into the hallway* *guy in a go cart goes by* oh okay *sits back down*

Aaron: we’re duct taping the student body president to the wall, come on

Matt: *one lone voice screaming lines from ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ at the top of his lungs* *no one is surprised*

Nicky:
Kid: that’s gay-
Social studies teacher: do not use that as a derogatory term again or I will rip off your arm and beat you with it

Bonus:

Jean:
History teacher: chickens can’t be ninjas and that is final!

Jeremy: *thirteen separate alarm clocks go off during a 40 minute assembly*

Wymack: *teacher is lecturing* *kid laughs at something outside the door* *teacher looks out the door*

WE ARE /NOT/- PINEAPPLE

*teacher goes sprinting out* *comes back and just says:* Brandon

8

You are not alone; you are right at home.

Happy birthday, Johanna!

Paris

Request: MODEL Y/N AND HARRYS GETTING LONELY BC Y/N ALWAYS IN PARIS W HER FRIENDS FLUFF PLS LOVE YA

A/N: OMG IM BACK. I hope you guys liked this and if you did I truly would love some feed back. love you all - maddy

MASTERLIST —-> X

LEAVE REQUESTS —–> X

Y/n has been away for so long. I feel like whenever I am working or away she is off and sitting at home but whenever she has work or has to fly somewhere I am always home alone. I just miss her a lot and feel like we both haven’t had a proper time to really be with each other in months. Ever since y/n’s modeling job really got going and she got more important roles we really haven’t seen each other. 

I’ve been trying to contact her but every time we do reach each other she is always busy working and can’t talk. I just want her back home and back in my arms where she truly belongs. We have been together for so long almost 3 years and most of it we were seeing each other till 6 months ago she starting to do some modeling for teen vogue and ever seen then she as been everywhere modeling with so many different companies. 

Keep reading

Domestic Drabbles: 5 - Locks and Wildflowers

Dun dun DUN! Presenting part 5 of Domestic Drabbles: A Series!

This one was an idea created together with @baz-n-simon, my amazing beta, support, and bestie :D Enjoy!


Baz

I’m standing wearily in front of the door to Snow and Bunce’s flat. I’ve knocked five times already, and no one has answered. I must have sent Snow ten texts already. I’ve searched through every pocket in my pants and jacket, and I can’t find the key. Snow has lost his so many times, he must have stolen mine.

I glance quickly around the hallway, then slide my wand out of my boot. Simon has told me multiple times not to use magick outside the flat, but with the awful day I’ve had, I can’t be troubled to wait around for someone to answer. I point my wand at the door.

“So many locks, not enough keys.” Yes, I’ve read a Sarah Dessen novel. For spell research only.

When the lock clicks, I slide my wand back into my boot and step inside. Neither Snow nor Bunce is in the living room, and the flat is silent.

“Snow?” I call out. No response. I walk towards the kitchen.

“Simon?” When I step into the kitchen, I stop. Sitting on the table is the most stunning display of wildflowers I’ve ever seen, placed neatly into a rounded vase. I walk over to it and examine each flower intently, wondering which shop Bunce had gotten these from.

My step-mother once spent an entire summer holiday planning a large magician’s gala and proceeded to drag me to every flower shop across London to find the perfect arrangements. Needless to say, she decided to cut the flowers entirely when she wasn’t impressed, but I learned a great deal. But nothing I saw could compare to this beautiful arrangement. It’s simple and delicate, like each flower placed had its own purpose.

There was a soft click of a door opening, and I turn around to see Snow stepping out of his bedroom. I glance him over. He’s just wearing trackies, and his hair his damp, and he has a towel hanging around his neck. He looks amazing, especially after the long day I’ve had. I then glance him over again. Because seeing him like this makes me weak.

He looks around the living room then walks forwards a few steps before he notices me. He’s briefly surprised to see me, but relaxes and smiles.

“Sorry, Baz,” he says, walking towards me. “I just saw your texts. I was in the shower.” His eyes then shift over to my hand that’s touching one of the flowers. “Ah, um… I got those for you.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, look at the flowers, then look back at him.

“You got these,” I say, then look back at the bouquet and back at him again. “For me?”

Snow smiles nervously. “Ah. Um, yeah. You texted me earlier, saying that you were having a bad day, and I saw those. I, uh. I actually don’t know if you like flowers, but um…” He trails off and starts raking his hand through his hair.

“Where did you buy them?” I ask. I’m quite curious, and I think about sending a picture of them to my step-mother.

“Oh.” He’s still raking his fingers through his hair, and it’s now a damp mess. “I picked them.”

I raise both of my eyebrows at him this time. “You… You picked these?”

“Uh, yeah? I got them from that small meadow a few blocks from here. Look, is there something wrong with them? I can get rid of them—”

“No, Snow,” I say, too quickly, touching his shoulder. “No. They’re- they’re perfect. But…”

“But?” He raises his eyebrow nervously.

I look at him, and I know my face is giving away my shock. But this is the most amazing arrangement of flowers I’ve ever seen, and Snow just casually picked them. My boyfriend just casually picked them, my mind adds.

“You… You just picked these?” I repeat. Because I still can’t believe it. “They’re just…”

He grins at me, and I grin back. Then I reach my fingers up and flatten out some of his messy curls.

“They’re lovely,” I say. “Thank you.”

He smiles this time, then leans up and kisses me.

“You’re welcome.”


(1)(2)(3)(4)(6)(7)(8) - (ao3)

studying with ADHD: in school

this is the first part of an upcoming series of posts about studying with ADHD

disclaimer: as a student who has primarily inattentive type ADHD, these are some things that help me. i know that ADHD affects different people in different ways, and what works for me might be counterproductive for others.

if you can, talk to your teachers about the fact that you have ADHD

  • if you don’t want to / can’t tell them you have ADHD, you can just say that you have trouble focusing
  • a lot of my teachers have been willing to let me work in the hallway when it’s too loud inside for me to focus, for example
  • i know a lot of kids who will just raise their hand to take a break / get water, the teacher will nod at them, and they can step outside the classroom for a minute without it being a big deal
  • remember, it’s in your teacher’s best interests to let you do what you need to learn as well as possible

in class

  • sitting in the front row can help force you to keep focused and alert
  • if you have something quiet like silly putty to play with under your desk, or you have gum to chew, things like that are good ways to fidget that won’t distract other people
  • if you need to bounce your leg, do it in such a way that it isn’t hitting the desk, and if you tap your fingers on your leg or something it’s a lot quieter than tapping them on the desk
  • if your teachers let you snack in class, baby carrots are crunchy and satisying and a fun thing to do with your mouth

lunch and free periods are your best friends

  • this is a good time to do work, since it can be hard to focus at home sometimes
  • if your school has a quiet study area in the library or something similar, use it!! those places are a godsend
  • lunch is also a really good time to get out your excess energy. taking a walk around the block, goofing off with your friends, whatever you need to do before you get back into focus mode

anonymous asked:

Okay so in my school's hallway we have a poster that says "Read for success!" and someone ripped the "ess" off and now we have a poster in our hallway that says "Read for succ!"

Balloons - Fred X Reader -

A/n Sorry for my absence! This is for a contest. My only warning is cursing and that I may not have gotten all of my mistakes.

============================================================

Several groups gathered in the stone hallway, some were just mingling with one another, others comparing notes from the day’s classes. Neither being the case for our group.

“Any sight of him yet?” Currently, Fred, George, and I were standing together outside of Snape’s classroom. I quickly look around.
“Nope. Do you think he’ll know it was us?” My voice barely above a whisper I try to appear as innocent as possible. The two boys share a look of amusement.

“Who else would come to mind?” Fred slings his arm around my shoulder. “Yeah, pranks are our trademark.” George mirrors his twin. “What do you think he’s gonna do to us?” A small bit of adrenaline rushes through me, I’m still pretty new to the pranking scene, but I’m having the time of my life.

“Probably the usual,” George states simply. “Just depends on how long this time.”

“How long do you think it will be this time Georgie?” As he speaks Fred’s eyebrows wiggle. I can tell they’re trying to make me freak out, but I now genuinely want to know.

“Well, how long is it normally?”

“About two weeks.” They unison actually started to put me on edge.

“How does this compare to some of your other pranks?” I know it’s kind of unreasonable but I was actually starting to worry.

“Not at bad as some.” Fred states. “But worse than others.” George finishes. Their arms tighten around me slightly.

“Nothing to worry about though, (Y/N). You’ll have us.”
“Fred, I know the both of you. You’ll only try and scare me more,” My eyes land on a black cloaked figure sweeping down the hall. “Snake on deck, boys.” My voice drops to a whisper as we watch Snape make his way into his classroom.

Little did he know that we had filled to whole room with balloons up to the ceiling, but they aren’t any normal balloons, they’re full of paint.
Snape opens the door to his classroom thus triggering a small set of fireworks. The sparks from the explosives pop the paint filled balloons coating the contents of the room in a thick layer of paint. Laughs echo off the stone walls as Snape comes out also covered from head to toe in a rainbow of paint. He makes direct eye contact with us. I feel the twins’ arms leave my shoulder and a pair slide around my waist. My feet leave the ground, one of the twins was now carrying me over his shoulder. He starts to flee the scene of the crime
“What are you doing?” A small yelp leaves my lips as I feel myself being let go of slightly, the twin is now holding me bridal style. Getting a better look at his face I see that Fred is the one carrying me.
“Aren’t we going to get in even more trouble for running away?” Panic lacing my voice, the two boys laugh.
“Better than being hit.” Again they respond in unison as we whip around a corner. Out of nowhere a door forms on a once-blank wall, before anyone else could follow us we made our way inside. Fred plops down on a cushy maroon couch, still holding me in his arms. The three of us sit and catch our breath, a few seconds later laughter echoes through the room.
“Did you see the look on his face? Priceless! Can we do that again?” I somehow form words through my laughter, adrenaline pumping through my system. I lean my head back onto Fred’s shoulder, laughter shaking both of our bodies. Soon the three of us were a laughing mess on the couch.
Our laughter fades and a peace settles in the room, soon we’re in a full-fledged conversation. Clock sounds, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Eleven strokes.
“Guys were going to get in even more trouble if we’re in the halls now. Should we stay here until morning?” Fred’s arms were currently wrapped around my waist and his head on my shoulder, me in his lap and George’s head was in my lap. A silence had hung in the air for a while. I got no response.
“Fred? George?” I squirm a little to try and wake them up. “Boys? Boys.” Nothing. “Boys!” I finally raise my voice, not much, but enough. The two stir, George rolled over onto his back and looks up at me.
“What do you want woman?”
“I don’t know if you noticed but it’s 11 p.m. and if we get caught in the halls we’ll be in even more trouble.” Fred finally lifts his head.
“Well, who says we’ll get caught?” He wriggles his eyebrows at me.

“They probably looking for us anyway, we’re bound to run into someone if we leave.” I lift my eyebrows in testament. “We should probably stay here until morning.”

“We’re all going to sleep on this one couch?” George still not in a fully awake state has clearly forgotten that we’re in the room of requirement.
“I’m about to be captain obvious here. George, we’re in the Room of Requirement. The room of fucking requirement, if we require it, the room will give us what we require.” I stare at him blankly a bit too tired to deal with his sleep induced stupidity. “Come on, get up Georgie.” I lightly push him off my lap and unravel Fred’s arms from around my waist. Standing up I walk to the middle of the room. I draw a blank.
“Wait… do I just ask the room for beds? Or?” I hear Fred sigh in the background.
“Sir, are you judging me?” I turn on my heels and cross my arms at him, a look of mock hurt sitting on my face. He simply saunters his way over to me a smirk on his face. Getting a bit too close for comfort I feel my face start to heat up. Out of the blue, he places his hands over my eyes.

“Fred? What are you doing? Why are you covering my eyes?” The only reply was a mischievous giggle.

“George? What is he doing?” The pitch in my voice raises slightly. “Fred, George. Answer me. What’s going on?” Fred removes his hands from over my eyes. My eyes adjust to the light and I take in the room.

The couch was still there, this side of the room is the same. I turn slightly to my right, the twins, okay. More to the right, a fireplace. More to the right. “Oh, shit. When did that get here?” now there was a plush looking Texas King bed covered in maroon sheets with golden swirls embroidered into the duvet. I stop fighting the urge and full on sprint to the bed and catapult myself onto it. “Oh, Merlin! It’s so comfy!” A satisfied sigh leaves me as I sink into the cushy goodness. Soon I feel two bodies fall next to me. I climb under the thick covers and wrap myself in them. Just as I start to embrace comfort my blanket is ripped away from me.
“Hey! I was comfy. Why would you do that?”  I whine as I lazily grab at the sheets, sleep still trying to take over. Both twins slide under the covers, a pair of arms wrap around my waist. The powerful grip of sleep soon starts to take over. The arms around my waist pull me in tighter and the owner buries their face in my hair. A content sigh leaves the two of us as we both slip into sleep.

At some point in the night, I must have turned over. My heavy eyelids flutter open and are met with the faded white of one of the boys’ uniforms. I roll back over to my other side to see the room covered by a cast of shadow, the only light was a slim moonbeam. One window is visible from where I am. A tree branch dances in the wind; a starling perched on one of the branches is cuddling into its nest. My eyes continue to focus on the scene beyond the window. Soon sleep once again takes me in its grasp.
The sun began to peek into the room. A warm wash encouraging me to open my eyes. Once again I’m met with the white shirt of one of the twins. Not wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of the embrace, I cuddle in closer and close my eyes once more. Almost as soon as I close my eyes I can hear the sound of the other twin shifting in the covers. The twin holding me also stirs slightly.
“Fred, did you finally pluck up the courage?” A light whisper is heard behind me. A small chuckle leaves the older twin. I can feel strands of my hair running through fingers.
“Not yet, I think I’ll ask her soon though.” The arms around me tighten me. The two boys continue to carry on a conversation. Eventually, my body becomes stiff from laying in the same position for so long. A squirm slightly and open my eyes once again.

“Mornin’ boys,” A weak greeting leaves my lips. “What time is it?” I rub my eyes and roll onto my back. The arms that were formally around me were now behind the head of the owner. George sat up, stretched, and made his way to the clock ticking away in the corner of the room.
“8:30. How long are we going to stay in here?” The redhead paces over to the nearest window and began to watch the people below. We all knew that sooner or later we’d have to leave and that the longer we wait for, the more trouble we’ll be in. We bask in the silence and wait out a few more minutes. Mentally preparing myself, I pick myself up from the bed and walk over towards an ornate body length mirror sitting in the corner of the room. My hair was a mess, the neat pony I once wore was now a loose chunk of hair at the base of my neck. My mascara had left chunks and marks underneath my eyes and my clothes sit in disarray. Thankfully this is the Room of Requirement, sitting beside the beautiful mirror is a mahogany dresser, on the top of the wood is a hair brush. I take it and begin to fix my hair, my (h/c) locks finally going back into place. I smooth out my clothes and wipe away the previous day’s makeup leftovers. Turning on my heels I’m greeted with both twins now presentable and holding out a conversation. The two laugh and gesture together. I make my way over to the pair and link arms with them.

“You two ready? We might as well get our punishment now than let it add up to even more.” I look between Fred and George, my eyes staying on Fred for a few seconds too long. He seems to have noticed and flashes me a wide grin. Looking away, we start to walk towards the door.
“Who do you think we’ll run into first?” Not quite to the door yet, George speaks up. “I bet two galleons on Snape. What about you, Fred, (Y/n)?” The younger boy digs in his pocket and pulls out two aged galleons. Fred pulls out two as well and gives his brother a challenging look.
“I say, McGonagall. What about you, (Y/n)?” Knowing that the aged teacher probably knew the majority, if not all, of the school like the back of her hand I had to agree with Fred.

“McGonagall, she’s been teaching here for how long now? An eternity maybe. She could probably walk this building with her eyes shut. She could even be waiting for us.” Fred laughs and stops in front of the door, now unlinked. He looks back and forth between his brother and I. Once again our eyes lock for a second too long, but this time a glimmer of mischief flashes through his eyes.
“I still say, Snape. That man probably waited out there for us all night. I raise my bet, four galleons.” I look back at Fred, grins quickly make their way onto our faces, we both look back at George. Fred walks closer to his brother, arms crossed.
“Then how about you go first?” George walks past his brother and peeks his head through the door. “Coast is clear. Let’s go.” He creeps out through the doorway, Fred and I behind him. The three of us quickly try and make our way through the halls as inconspicuous as possible. We were on the brink of freedom as we see a swipe of green making its way down the corridor. Fred quickly pushes George back into the hallway, right in front of McGonagall. Fred grabs my hand and bolts towards the lake. Soon we’re blocked by trees, the two of us laughing and trying to catch our breath.
“Do you think she saw where we went?” Giggling I peek out from between the tree and Fred. A streak of green can be seen in the hallway. a dot of ginger next to it. Fred pulls me back behind the tree, my body in between him and the tree. My giggles cease as we look back at each other. His face starts inching closer to mine, my eyes shut and our lips meet. So many old feelings resurface, I’d been waiting for this moment since 2nd year. My hands find their way to his shoulders and his to my waist, it continues like this for a minute or so. We broke apart for air, a smile spread across my face.
“So, (Y/n), what do you say to a trip to Hogsmeade?” He wriggles his eyebrows slightly. I’m about to respond but I’m interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the signature emerald robes of McGonagall. Her eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed and lips pursed.
“I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon. Three weeks detention, be at my office at 8 o’clock sharp.” With that, she sweeps her way across the courtyard. Fred and I turn to each other. I laugh, a snort making it’s way out, once again we start walking.
“How about a trip to detention first?” I plant a quick kiss on his cheek and run off back my dorm. Just as I’m about to ascend the dormitory stairs Fred grabs my wrist. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but instead, he simply smiles and walks away. Butterflies fill my stomach as I continue my climb. I open the heavy wooden door, balloons float towards the new draft of air, one balloon sits tied down on my bed. Written on it is a simple yet endearing question: ‘Will you be my partner in crime?’

I cast an Avis charm and send the birds down to him with a note. Written in the note is the simply reply: ‘Always.’

On The Door Step - part 3

Parings: Dean x Sister!Reader x Sam

Summary: In 2000, John Winchester opened the door to his current motel room and found a little girl at his feet, sleeping peacefully with a fuzzy white blanket tucking her in a wicker basket. Now, nearly 16 years later, (Y/N) has still yet to find herself in the world of the Winchesters.

prologue    part 1    part 2

Warnings: Season 10/11 spoilers, cursing (I think that’s it)

Words: 2243

A/N: Y’all are the best! By the way, requests are open (I don’t write Wincest and I haven’t tried smut, but I’m willing)! Now here’s part 3.

(Y/B/M) = your birth month

(Y/B/D) = your birth day


I sit still in the plastic blue chair resting against the irritatingly white walls. I stare at the students being attended by the on duty nurse and a few of the teachers. The staff is trying to keep the kids calm, hoping that no one will pass out or scream, but one of the middle school children doesn’t do what they were hoping.

The little boy screams and I wince, clenching my eyes shut and tucking myself inwards. The child has a rather large shard of glass sticking out of his back and a few teachers surround his body where he lays on the floor.

This is all my fault.

The paramedics arrive sooner than anyone thought, and the take away the severely injured students before attending to those with minor wounds, like me. A kind woman dressed in the hospital’s uniform cuts off my long sleeve and plucks out the pieces of the mirror that fell from the ceiling. I don’t wince, I hardly even flinch as she takes them out or even when she sterilizes the cuts. Once she’s done, she begins to ask a few questions.

“Did you hit your head?” I shake my head, clenching my hands together and closing my eyes. A quivering breath escapes my lips, but other than that, I keep my responses silent.

She examines the rest of my arm, and checks my head for any signs of blood, but when she comes up empty, she moves on to the next student.

My fingers interlock with one another and my eyes watch them closely like they’re the most interesting creatures in the world.

“I wanna leave.” I breathe out to myself, but the nurse standing next to my chair hears me. She turns to me, watching me closely before answering.

“You can go home soon.” She smiles at me, patting me on my knee and then sighing.

That’s not what I meant.


My legs feel light and my head feels heavy as I approach the door leading to the inside of the bunker from the garage. Sam and Dean aren’t home yet, which isn’t surprising, it’s almost a six hour trip from Lebanon to Denver and they left nine hours ago.

“How was school?” Castiel grunts from the same spot in the library he was this morning when I left. I make my way down the steps, making sure to keep my shoulder out of Castiel’s view. If he sees the bandages, he’s going to throw so many questions at me that I’ll get whiplash.

“It was school, nothing interesting,” I answer bluntly, passing him and heading towards my room. “Just glad it’s Friday.” With nothing more to say, I quickly make my way down the hallway and shut the door to my room. I have to stay away from Cas, he could figure something is off with me. He’s done it on several accounts and he’s told my brothers.

For the next 29 hours that my brothers don’t return, I keep myself locked in my room, answering Castiel’s worried phone calls with simple answers.

“I’m having really bad cramps right now.”

“(Y/N), your period isn’t for another week,” He speaks with concern and a hit of confusion.

“Okay, first of all, how do you know my cycle? And it’s possible to have cramps while ovulation.” I slightly laugh as I imagine the face he’s most likely making.

“Dean made a calendar for me,” he explains, “so I would understand most of your grumpiness.”

Of course he did.

“Look, Cas, I’m fine, so you don’t have to call every two hours.” I sigh, laying across my bed and running my fingers through my hair.

“It’s unlike you to hide in your room unless something was wrong.” I sigh, closing my eyes and feeling the throbbing in my shoulder. I’m too hot right now to wear anything but shorts and a tank top and if I go out there now with my bandage exposed, I’ll rat myself out.

“I’ll come out later, I’m working on homework.” I lie. I’ve been reading up on what they have been saying about the incident. They’ve kept most of the details from the public, they mostly just say the windows were broken. None of the articles mention the falling mirrors.

Castiel sighs and decides not to say anything more, so he hangs up. Tossing my phone on my bed, I hide my eyes in the crook of my elbow, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder. Irritation bubbles up inside the back of my head and I leap to my feet.

Another hour passes, and I find myself pacing the floor in front of my bed. My fingers twitch as I run my hands up and down my arms, trying to ease my nerves.

Nothing’s working.

My breathing quickens, I force myself to sit on the edge of my bed, trucking my head between my legs in order to stop the attack.

It’s not working.

I leap to my feet, scraping my toes against my desk chair leg. I hiss, wrapping my palm around my big toe before sitting down in the chair to examine it. I ripped the nail and the nail tore some of the skin away from underneath it. Squeezing the toe, I close my eyes and try to focus on something in order to ignore the pain. However, when I open my eyes, I watch as my a little green light seeps out between my fingers.

I pull back my hand, which causes me to fall out of my chair and smacking my head against the edge of my bed.

“Fuck,” I grumble, rubbing the back of my head. I feel my nerves slowly calming and the attack subsiding and my eyes land on my big toe, finding the nail fully intact and the blood gone. “What the fuck?”

I climb to my feet, slipping on my jacket, and stumble out of the door. I need air.

“Hey-” Cas greets me, but I quickly walk passed him, heading towards the stairs. I make it to the garage, picking my helmet off the ground and starting towards my bike when I crash into a giant.

“Whoa, where are you going?” Sam asks, holding me at arms length. I’m out of breath and staring up at him with wide eyes. Shit.

“I-I’m,” I caught, shaking my head in order to clear it. “I was going for a ride.”

“With no shoes?” Sam glances down at my green painted toes. I mentally slap myself.

“So this is the third,” a strong Scottish accent says from where the impala is parked. Dean pulls out a short redheaded woman from the back seat, her wrists chained together. “(Y/N) Winchester.”

I stand straight, staring down the witch. So this is Rowena. Charlie was right, her voice is kind of annoying. I don’t move away from the door as Dean approaches with her as I continue to examine her. This is the first “villain” I’m meeting and knowing my brother they’re going to make it quick.

Rowena raises an eyebrow as she continues to watch me, and for a slight moment, her eyes widen in surprise while she ever so quietly whispers, “I’ve never seen so much.”

What?

“Alright, c’mon.” Sam pulls me away from the door, allowing Dean to open it and lead Rowena inside.

“We told you we’d be back,” Sam smiles, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and walking inside with me. I fight against the urge to push Sam away and run after Rowena. Sam continues to talk, but I can’t focus on his words.

At the bottom of the steps, I wiggle free of Sam’s heavy arm and turn to glare at him. “Don’t you have a prisoner to interrogate?” My attention turns towards the hallway Dean disappeared down.

Sam nods after spending a few seconds watching me. He gives me a tight hug, promising we’ll hang out soon, before disappearing down that same hallway.

“(Y/N),” Castiel huffs, drawing my attention away and to his shaking body, “what happened to your shoulder?” My eyes follow his to find my jacket had slipped off, exposing the white bandages.

“Nothing.” I answer coldly before turning my attention back to the hall.

I need to get in there.

I’ve been lingering by the hallway entrance for a couple of minutes now, my thumb nail between my teeth as I think of how in the hell am I supposed to get Sam and Dean out of there long enough to interrogate her with my own questions.

My attention turns to Castiel in the library as he grunts and shakes. He’s having another episode. And then it clicks. I know how to get them out.


“Guys,” I wince, wobbling passed the secret shelf door.

Sam acts fast, approaching me with concern and caution, worried if he touches me he might cause more pain.

“What the hell happened?” Dean jumps off the chair, leaning in close to examine the bruise forming on my cheek.

“Castiel is gone. He got out and… he left.” Dean looks to Sam and without a word, they both head outside of the file room to talk. A moment ticks by before I turn to Rowena, straightening my back and glaring at her.

“So much what?” I hiss, approaching the edge of the devil’s trap.

“I’m sorry?” Rowena bats her eyes, sizing me up.

“When you saw me, you said you haven’t seen so much. What the hell did you mean?” I narrow my eyes, watching as she shifts slightly in her seat, readying herself to tell me that I must’ve misheard. “They’re going to be back in here, I don’t have time for any innocent shit.”

“You have so much… energy inside ya, dear…”

“What are you talking about? What energy?”

“Magic! You have so much of it… So much more than I,” she rolls her eyes as she explains. “Of course you do, you’re a Winchester after all.” She says mostly to herself, but I glare at her for it.

“I’m not a witch,” I hiss, taking a step closer. “There’s no way I can be a witch.”

“Aye dear, you’re not. But you’re something,” she pauses, sizing me up once again. “But that much power you’re sitting on, it’s surprising you’re in one piece. That it hasn’t hurt you yet-”

I take a step away, my hand gently laying against my shoulder. Magic would be the explanation for what happened in the cafeteria. 

“You’re on edge, aren’t ya dear?” Rowena shifts in her chair, rattling the chains keeping her in place. “If you take these off, I could show ya.”

I glare at her, watching as a grin grows across her lips. I take in a deep breath before answering, “you’re lying. It’s just hormones.”

“(Y/N)!” Dean hollers, strutting to stand next to me. “Don’t talk to her, she’s-”

“Dangerous, I know.” I nod to Rowena before slipping out of the room. I tug on my jacket tight around my waist and duck my head down as I walk towards my room.

“(Y/N), we’re going to find Cas,” Sam speaks, typing away on his laptop. “We’re taking Rowena with us-”

“Stay here, I know.” I smile weakly at Sam. “I’m going to go to bed, Will you call me when you find him? And will you tell him I’m sorry?”

“Why are you the one who’s sorry? Cas-”

“Just, tell him?” Sam nods and I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Thank you.” I slowly drag myself to my room, my head swimming with too many thoughts.

When I reach my room, I lock the door behind me and rest my back against it and examine the space. Rowena is probably right, I have magic. How else could I heal my own toe or summon mirrors and  break glass without physically touching it?

As I pace around the room, my mind decides to send me back to the day I asked Dean where our mom was. It was three years after I was left on their doorstep and a year before John disappeared on Dean.

“(Y/N), we don’t have the same mom,” Dean says, pulling me into his lap while we waited for John to check us into a motel room. “Your mom left you with us.”

“Do we have the same dad?” I question, playing with the necklace Sam hand given him.

“Yes.”

Now that I’m older, when I look back on this memory I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. If he had told me no, who knows what kind of devastation that would bring to a five year old.

I take in a staggering breath and push myself off the door. I reach for my book bag next to my desk and dump the contents onto my bed. I rush around the room, pulling out clothes and hygiene products. I change out of my sleeping shorts and slip on a pair of skinny jeans.

Once my bag is packed, I place my school materials on my desk and stop short at the sight of the tiny fluffy white blanket folded neatly near the desk, the sticky note with the simple message written in my mothers handwriting.

Her name is (Y/N).
She was born (Y/B/M) (Y/B/D), 1999
Please take care of her.


Tags: @straightasdeanwinchester , @superblyunnatural

A/N: tags are open

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Morgan Rielly - Part 23

Long af but I like it! I’m soooooo excited for the next few parts! *heart eyes*


The rest of the road trip passes without a lot less drama. We return to Toronto with a winning record for the trip and with high spirits. A small part of me has been dreading the return back home to Toronto, away from my apartment I’ve been busy and my mind hasn’t had a lot of chances to delve into what’s happened the last week and a half.

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