today i spent an hour crying over how incredibly strong she is

Summer Boy|| Jeon Jungkook pt.07

{pt.01, pt.02, pt.03, pt.04, pt.05, pt.06}

Jungkook x reader


Word Count: 4,883

~ Yes! This is the final chapter of Summer Boy. I just wanted to take a moment, once again, to thank anybody and everybody who had followed the story all the way to the end. You’re support has really pushed me into finishing the story, so thank you very much. Enjoy ♡


“(Y/n)! Please wait!”

I grabbed what I could find of my clothing, it was difficult with the tears in my eyes and my shaking hands. With only my denim shorts on and the rest of my clothes pressed against my naked chest. Jungkook stood in front of me, trying to get my attention but I was desperate to run. I moved away as he tried to touch my shoulder and I walked around him with unclear words leaving my mouth. I went to reach for the door as he called out for me from behind but I was startled to see the door open by Taehyung. He was taken aback with shock as I pushed gently by passing him.

  “I just have to go.”


I woke up the next afternoon in my own bedroom. Embarrassed completely by the events of last night, I had made a total fool of myself in front of everybody. I had gotten straight home and into bed, my phone laid next to me dead and I got dressed as I put it to charge. I was lost in thought replaying the night in my head when I came to realize that the house was dead silent. I know it had to be at least 11 am and yet not a single noise could be heard in the house.

I stepped out of my room, going from wood to the cold tile on my feet, I looked down the hall into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone being there but the faint smell of breakfast from probably hours ago. There were eggs on a plate with a slice of bread already cold that they must have left me. I had no appetite regardless, picked up the plate to clean it up. I suddenly remembered Coco agreeing to help the boys pack up last night during the cookout. The rest of the girls must have gone along to help. I was making my way back into my room when the back door opened loudly behind me


Keep reading

Q: How are you today?
A: Good … thank you !! Though THIS traffic …. #shame

Q: How many days till you are able to go home?
A: Just a bit over a month … counting down the days !!! #summerfun

Q: #AskClaire are you watching anything good? Binge worthy? 
A: Did someone say @SHO_TwinPeaks

Q: Where’s Eddie while you’re away? You must miss him! 
A: I do miss HER … (i won’t let her know you made that mistake !!) She’s waiting in Scotland for some SA treats !!

Q: You gonna be long? #onbehalfofmycompadres 
A: If I said another hour …. would you a) cry b) explode c) just go home ..????

Q: What do you consider to be your best scene from Season 3?
A: 🌴…. that’s a clue !!!

Q: What book are you currently reading? #AskClaire #Outlander
A: Mirror, Shoulder, Signal …or is it Mirror, Signal, Shoulder … anyway .. It’s GOOD.

Q: Will you get time off this summer before Season 4 filming begins?
A: Well I’d better … I hear people might want us to promote it #AskClaire

Q: What’s been your favorite thing you’ve learned since coming to South Africa to film? #AskClaire #Outlander
A: People’s incredible capacity to forgive and heal … and that it’s a process … LOVE SA ❤

Q: When will you come to France ? #AskClaire 
A: Soon, I hope !!

Keep reading

Gone - Pt. 2

Pairing: Aaron x Reader

Word Count: 1,610

Request: yes!  Request here

@marvelfanlife -  Could you turn gone into a multi fic please? It’s so good! and hotch needs to know about the baby! 💕

@blrthelines -  Ahhhhh I need more of “Gone”!!!!!!

Anon -  Ahh I love “Gone”, can you please continue it?? Pretty please!💕

Warnings: None

Summary: Recap: Y/N is devastated when Aaron and Jack flee into witness protection to hide from Mr.Scratch, who has been stalking Jack.  In order to keep her protected, Hotch tells the reader via note to stay put and not try to look for or contact him or Jack.  Oh, and she just so happens to be pregnant with his child.

Part One

Originally posted by thomas-gibson-daily

You’d only been inside the BAU a few times, usually to surprise Aaron on his birthday or to bring Jack on his.  

But this time, when you walked through the doors to the bullpen, your legs felt almost as if they were going to collapse under you, knowing the weight of the situation, and seeing Agent David Rossi carrying boxes out of Aaron’s office just made the realization of your worries worse.  He wasn’t here.  Of course, in your heart you knew he wouldn’t be, but something in you told you to check, told you that maybe he would be waiting for you in the BAU to give you a real goodbye.

Penelope Garcia walked up to the door of Aaron’s office, her red eyes were evidence that she’d been crying.  Slowly, she pulled his name plate from the door, sighing and holding it close to her heart.  When she turned around, she caught your eyes, a confused look crossing her face.

“Y/N?” you heard beside you.  You looked over to see JJ walking towards you with Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Where is he,” were the first words that came out of your mouth.

“He’s not here,” she replied, looking at you with concern.  

“Ms. Y/L/N,” David said from Aaron’s door.  He motioned for you to join him, and you hesitantly did so, feeling the eyes of your boyfriend’s coworkers on you.

“Where’s Aaron?” you asked as soon as you got to the door.  He motioned for you to step inside, and when you did, he came in behind you and shut the door behind him.  “Why did you move his stuff?” you asked between your tears.

“I need you to listen very carefully, Y/N,” Dave said.  “You might want to sit down for this.”  You obliged and sat in the chair across from Aaron’s - or what used to be Aaron’s.  

“What’s going on?” you asked, still unable to wrap your head around the fact that he was gone.  That Jack was gone.  They were gone.  Vanished.  Gone.

“Aaron turned in his resignation this morning.  He came to me and told me that Lewis was at Jack’s school today,” he started, leaning against the now vacated desk.  “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but he and Jack have been admitted into witness protection.”

Your heart felt like it sank into your stomach.  

They’re gone.

“It was ultimately his decision.  He didn’t want to drag you any deeper into the situation, so he decided to keep you out of it.”

They’re gone.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

They’re gone.

The mantra continued to play in your head, over and over you heard the words you were most scared of.  

Instinctively, you put your hands to your stomach.  Tears flowed freely to meet the fabric of your shirt, soaking into the blanket over your unborn child.

“They’re gone,” you said aloud.  It was the first time you spoke the words aloud despite hearing them so clearly in your head.

“I think it would be best to lay low for a while.  We can get you a protective unit if you’d like,” David told you.

“I- I need to talk to him,” you said, clutching at your stomach, wanting the little bundle of joy to have a father.

“I’m afraid you can’t,” David said sadly, inching closer to you, careful eyes watching yo as if you might break, but the truth was, you’d broken long ago when you found the note on your kitchen counter.

“No, you don’t understand,” you said, standing up, your legs surprisingly not failing you.  “I need to talk t-to him, please, you have to know where he is.”

“I don’t, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Then you have to know someone who knows where he is, p-please David,” you said.  You were backing to the door, trying to keep your balance

“Y/N.  I’m sorry, but there is no way to contact him.  He’s gone,” he replied, his voice slightly raising.  He didn’t want to hurt you any more than you already had been.

“Please,” you whispered.  “Please.”

He only shook his head and sighed, not know what else to tell you.  The once strong and fearless woman he once knew was crumbling in front of him, and despite what he did for a living, he suddenly didn’t know how to handle telling you that you may never see your boyfriend ever again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice slightly shaking.  Rossi was hard to break, but here you were, managing to do it.

“I have his baby,” you said, your voice still a soft whisper.  David looked at you, shock evident in his features.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked you, his voice rising in pitch.

“I didn’t get to tell him,” you said, burying your head into your hands.

They’re gone.

Alone and pregnant is not exactly how you pictured spending your birthday, but you were glad you weren’t at work with all your annoying coworkers.  Instead, you thought it would be nice to have yourself a bubble bath, candles lit and Frank Sinatra playing in the background.

Once you spent the day relaxing and eating cake by yourself, you thought it would be nice to head to the BAU.

Ever since Aaron was admitted into witness protection, you kept in close touch with his former team members.  Having them made it easier, especially since the loss of their team captain wasn’t exactly easy on them either.  They were able to comfort you, and you them.  

Walking through the doors of the bullpen, you were met with the sight of the whole BAU team sitting around a desk that was decorated with balloons and cupcakes and confetti.  They were all huddled around, moving things around as if to make it look more presentable.  

When Dr. Reid looked up from the present JJ was holding, he saw you and sighed.

“Uh, surprise?” he said.  The rest of the team halted their actions and turned around, all seemed upset when they saw you since the surprise was ruined.

“Is this all for me?” you asked, setting your leftover cake on the table with the rest of the goodies.

“Yeah.  I was going to call you when it was all set up and we were going to turn the lights off and everything.  Big surprised ruined,” Penelope said with a slight frown.  “But happy birthday !” she said, smiling and pulling you in for a hug, your eight and a half months pregnant belly making it harder to get close to your friend. 

“Aw, guys.  This is amazing thank you,” you said, giving each member of the team a hug, feeling tears prick at you eyes.

“Hey, now, don’t you cry on us,” Dr. Lewis said, squeezing your shoulder.

“I’m just so glad I wasn’t alone in all of this,” you said, motioning to your protruding stomach.  “Thank you all.”

“Anything for you, sweets,” Penelope said, handing you a present.

“You guys didn’t have to-” before you could finish, there was a sharp pain in your abdomen.  You stopped and held it for a second, wincing at the aching.

“Oh, no.  Are you okay?” Luke asked, holding onto your elbow.

“She’s going into labor,” JJ said calmly.

“No I’m not, I’m not due until next month,” you stated.

“Doesn’t matter, hon,” JJ said simply, pulling you towards the door.

Thirteen hours later, your baby boy was born.  He had your eyes, Aaron’s nose, and his dark, dark hair.  You smiled down at your son, happy tears running down your cheeks. 

JJ was in the room with you the whole time, walking you through the process.

“He’s beautiful,” she told you, grinning down at the two of you.

“Isn’t he?” you choked out.  He was so calm and small and beautiful.  Just incredibly beautiful.  And he was all yours.

And Aaron’s.

But Aaron was gone.

“Aaron,” you said down to your baby.  “Aaron Jack Hotchner.”

“Hi baby Aaron,” JJ said, waving to the tiny boy who was opening his eyes.  “I’m your aunt JJ.”

“Can we come in?” Penelope said from the door, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, please,” you said, wanting your practical family to meet the newest member.

“Oh my goodness,” the bubbly blonde said after laying eyes on Aaron Jr.  “He looks just like you.”

“And his father,” Emily said with a smile.

But his father isn’t here.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” David said, giving you a peck on the forehead.

You couldn’t contain your happiness.  You had the most beautiful son in the world in your arms, and although his father was absent in the moment, you felt everything but lonely surrounded by the ones you loved, knowing that every agent in the room would help you raise Aaron as if he were their own.

He was the son of their former partner and unit chief, of course they would.

But he was gone.

“Can I hold him?” Reid asked sheepishly.  You grinned and nodded your head, holding up your son carefully to let the doctor take him.

His dad was not here, but Aaron Jack Hotchner was surrounded by the people who love him and will go to the ends of the earth for him, and that was all that mattered.

Aaron was out in the world somewhere with Jack hopefully safe, but wherever he was, he had no knowledge of the baby boy just born with his name.  He didn’t know that you thought about him every day, and probably didn’t know that since he left, you spent every night crying yourself to sleep.  He didn’t know any of this because he was gone.

They were gone.

Too Good [r.m.]

This one was actually requested by @jxggie-jxnes, so thank you for the amazing prompt and I hope it meets your expectations!!


Reggie Mantle x reader in which science become important.

(Y/N/N)= your nickname



Jason Blossom had changed (and simultaneously ruined) the small town of Riverdale when his twin sister, Cheryl, claimed he drowned in Sweetwater River.

For (Y/N) (L/N) however, her life was ruined a day before his mysterious disappearance when her boyfriend, Reggie Mantle, broke up with her down at Sweetwater River.

Maybe that river was just cursed.

Reggie Mantle had asked (Y/N) (L/N) to accompany him to the Homecoming dance (A/N: what the heck is homecoming btw?) in freshman year and they had been together ever since. At least, until he broke up with her on July 3rd.


Brokenhearted and on the verge of tears, they young girl stumbled to Pop’s, hoping that a milkshake would make everything better. Pop’s personally delivered her milkshake, adding a side of onion rings as he looked at her sympathetically.

“Don’t worry (Y/N), this one’s on me,” he said. She simply smiled in thanks.

As she sat in the booth, she couldn’t help but wonder what she had done. Why had Reggie left her? She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the figure sliding into the seat across from her. She looked up when she heard someone clear their throat, only to lock eyes with a pair of blue ones.

“(Y/N) are you okay?” she heard them ask.

“Just peachy Betty,” she grumbled.

“(Y/N)…” Betty trailed off as the girl looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. She immediately got up and went to her side, enveloping the girl in her arms just as she began crying.

“He broke up with me Betty,” the girl whispered. “No explanation or anything. He just…left me.”

Betty couldn’t help but feel angry at “Mantle the Magnificent” as she held the broken girl, whispering comforting words to her as she soothingly rubbed her back. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

Betty took (Y/N) to her house, where they just sat and talked for hours.

“I don’t know what I did,” the (H/C) haired girl said.

“I’m certain you didn’t do anything (Y/N)” Betty instantly replied. “Reggie’s just incredibly stupid.

“Besides, you don’t need him (Y/N). You are strong and intelligent and you certainly don’t need someone like Reggie around in order for you to know your worth,” Betty finished.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) smiled slightly. “Y’know what Betty? You are absolutely right. Thank you, for today. Thank you for being there for me.”

The two girls smiled at each other. A new friendship had been forged.


The rest of (Y/N)’s summer was spent hanging out with Betty and Archie. Archie had accepted her into their small group without hesitation and they had grown quite close.

With both of them by her side, (Y/N) felt invincible. She felt like she could do anything. She was certain she would be all right.

At least, she was, until the first day of school came around. The first day of school brought around many new challenges: Cheryl Blossom being a bitch, the new girl Veronica Lodge, and the most difficult of them all, Biology.


Everything had been fine. (Y/N) was going to pair up with Betty for that class and she would have no trouble there, seeing as how Biology was one of her best subjects. But their teacher decided to be a bitch and ruin her plans.

“Alright kids, listen up!” the teacher exclaimed. “This year, I will be picking your partners!”

(Y/N) glanced around the room uneasily, accidentally locking eyes with Reggie, who had been staring at her from across the room.

“Alright, Veronica Lodge and Josie McCoy. Archie Andrews and Kevin Keller,” (Y/N) zoned out as her teacher kept talking, only listening when Betty’s name was called. “Betty Cooper and Cheryl Blossom.”

(Y/N) made a face as Betty moved over to where Cheryl was.

“(Y/N) (L/N) and Reggie Mantle,” the girl dropped her book as she heard her partner’s name before quickly recovering and making her was over to the only free lab station, not missing Betty’s shocked expression.

“Hey (Y/N/N),” Reggie greeted. “Its been awhile.”

“Don’t call me that,” the girl snapped. ‘Calm down (Y/N), be a decent person’. Gritting her teeth and turning to Reggie, she mustered up a small smile. “Let’s get this work done yeah?”


One month later, Reggie still hadn’t stopped bothering (Y/N) during Bio.

Three months later, and they were back to joking around like they used to, before the break up.

Everyone was surprised to say the least. Betty was nervous about their friendship, as was Archie, who had become like a big brother figure to the (H/C) girl.

For (Y/N) however, Reggie was the least of her problems. The young girl had been panicking over her next big volleyball game, which was the championship game of the season. So when Reggie had started speaking to her on a daily basis (both in and out of class), she hadn’t given it much thought.

Whilst sitting in class one day, Reggie had noticed (Y/N)’s jumpy behavior.

“(Y/N/N)? What’s wrong?” he had questioned.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, (Y/N) had told him all of her doubts. That she wasn’t good enough to be on the team. That she was going to mess up the game. That she was going to be the reason that they would lose.

Reggie had quickly shut down her worries and given her an encouraging smile, telling her that she was enough. That she wasn’t going to mess up the game. That she was going to be the reason that they would win the championship.


The day of the game came a lot quicker than (Y/N) expected, and she was a bundle of nerves. Betty and Archie had stayed with her before the game started, whispering words of encouragement and praising her. As her team captain came in to give her the “five minutes til the game” signal, Betty began heading out.

“I’ll be sitting right out there ok? Cheering you on every step of the way,” Betty said before giving (Y/N) a tight hug.

After she left, (Y/N) turned to face Archie, raising her eyebrow.

“Listen (Y/N/N),” Archie began. “You are one of the most amazing players on the team. Don’t doubt yourself now. You’ve come such a long way and now is your time to shine. Go out there and make me proud kiddo.”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) launched herself at Archie, enveloping him in a hug.

“Uh, is now a bad time?”

The pair broke apart as they heard a familiar voice. (Y/N) looked at Archie and blushed as he wiggled his eyebrows at her and left, quickly wishing her a ‘good luck’.

He gave Reggie an unreadable look as he passed him, shaking his head at the dark-haired boy.

“So, uh, good luck out there,” Reggie said, standing by the doorway awkwardly.

The (H/C) haired girl quickly gave a small ‘thank you’, already walking past him to go join her teammates. She was stopped however, by Reggie’s hand shooting out and grabbing her wrist, gently pulling her to him as he captured her lips in a hesitant kiss as he wound his other arm around her waist. She couldn’t help but kiss back. She had missed this. She had missed him.

“Why Reggie?” she asked as they pulled away. “Why did you leave me?”

Reggie swallowed hard before answering, his lips pink and slightly swollen from the kiss they had shared less than a minute ago.

“I wasn’t enough (Y/N),” he whispered. “You were this amazing, talented girl, and I wasn’t good enough for you. I’m just a jock who does okay in school. But you, you’ve got an amazing future and I was just holding you back.”

“How dare you Reggie Mantle!” the girl exclaimed. “That is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard. If anything, you’re too good for me. Everyone loves you and you do amazing in school. I chose to be with you Reggie. I love you.”

Reggie froze at her words before smiling and pulling her in for another kiss. “I love you too. Now go out there and win.”


And win she did. Riverdale had won the championship volleyball game all thanks to (Y/N)’s efforts.

As she walked into Pop’s with Reggie after the game, Betty and Archie, sitting in their usual booth, couldn’t help but notice the lovestruck expressions on their face as they walked, pinkies linked, to an empty booth.

And they knew, as Reggie placed his letterman jacket around (Y/N)’s shoulders, that no matter how much of a dick, or how big his ego was, that he would never do anything to harm her again.


I dunno how I feel about this. I don’t know if I portrayed him alright or not but I would like to write more for him in order to improve. i hope this was okay!

Also, asks are open.


Tag List: @blisshbee, @wisestydia14, @cleohalestilinski, @do-somethinglovely, @divastar777, @localagoraphobic, @gabiwella, @loveinfxnitelyx, @kanye—west, @unicornqueen05, @that1chic-xoxo, @melinadufort, @casismyguardianangel, @jxggie-jxnes, @demigodofthesun, @katshrev, @professionalphangirluniverse, @jugheads-lawyer, @cyberfoxlili, @iwannadiehere, @lostinpercyseyes, @millygwiazda, @theselfishllama, @pegacorn24, @apocalypticangell, @fandomsrlove, @mcheung0314, @fangites, @isabellaskyliner, @nooneshoney, @itsjaynebird, @fandomsandotherstuff

His Last Request - Pt. 8: An Exciting Breakfast

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: “Panic attack hangover,” nosy neighbors, fluff on fluff

Word Count: 5100ish

Summary: Dean and The Reader adjust to their new “apple-pie-life”

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me during my long hiatus. I’m not super proud of this chapter as I was a little rusty from my long break but hopefully its alright. It’s the fluffiest chapter I’ve written for this series so it felt a little awkward to me tbh Thank you @torn-and-frayed for helping me think up a name for the nosy neighbor OC haha Hope yall enjoy! Feedback is much appreciated!




You grimaced and scrunched your eyes together even harder as you felt tiny fingers poking your face.

“Wawa…Wawa! Wake up, Wawa!”

“Nooo, I don’t wanna go to Wawa…” You murmured sleepily, rolling your face into the pillow and away from the disturbance.

“Looks like she’s not budging, Jen,” You heard Dean’s voice pipe up. “Time to take some drastic measures.”

You heard Jenny giggle and your eyes shot open just as Dean yelled, “Baby Bomb!”

You felt a weight slam into your back and Jenny let out a chain of giggles in response to your “Oomph!”

“Wawa! Wake up!” She commanded, crawling up towards your head. You rolled over slowly and gently enough for Jenny to easily slide off of you and onto the mattress. You noticed Dean sitting at the edge of the bed laughing at you.

“What happened to ‘I got her, you just go back to sleep.’” You whined, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Breakfast happened,” Dean chuckled.

Keep reading

One Last Time

Rated: T

Words: 3610

Tags: Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Trauma, Terrorism

Prompt: Eye Contact

Special thanks to @thebookjumper  for creating this amazing writing project!!

Notes: My first fic submission for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon!

I’m sorry the tags aren’t that uplifting… but neither is this story. I had to get it out though. You’ll probably understand once you start reading why that is. I was involved in the attack in Manchester last week and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and reliving it and a lot of this was written mid panic attack so any mistakes/typos can be blamed on that and also on that I only read this back once or twice because I really just wanted to get it posted and out of the way. It turns out writing fic about traumatic events is like therapy for me and much like therapy, once I’ve got stuff off of my chest, I want to forget about it.

Hopefully the rest of my submissions won’t be this heavy! But I also hope you enjoy this anyway. Please let me know what you think!

Obvious trigger warnings for terrorism and explosions.

Read on AO3

It had been hours, days even, and she could still hear the ringing in her ears, still smell the burning, of metal or flesh she wasn’t sure, could still taste the panic in her mouth, the screams of the thousands of people around her that would never be heard, still see the blood smeared everywhere, the crying faces of strangers she suddenly had wanted to hold and protect but couldn’t, still feel the churning in her stomach and the tightness in her chest and the unshed tears behind her eyes.

She’d held it together, she’d had to, she’d had to make sure she got herself home, make sure her friends were safe, make sure they were reassured that she was fine even if it meant saying those words over and over and smiling and pretending her legs weren’t trembling and she couldn’t taste acid in her mouth. But now she was alone, she couldn’t stop reliving it. Now she was alone, she couldn’t breathe. Now she was finally alone after days of having places to be and responsibilities to keep, she couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop crying.

Keep reading

written for @ocsickficsideblog using her lovely OCs! it’s rly long n angsty but i hope you enjoy anyway <3 


Julius has been woken up in a lot of ways. The best requires no explanation (skin on skin, his hips, the smell of pine and that godawful shampoo, just because it requires no explanation doesn’t mean he can’t remember) (and softer days, too - fine hair tickling his cheeks and forehead kisses and chamomile tea, pictures of cats you have to see right now Julius oh my god look at them, sleepy smiles reserved just for him). The worst…well. (His screams. A phone receiver pressed to the ear, it doesn’t hurt that bad, Julius, promise, I shouldn’t have made Father so angry. Cold sheets soaked with something warm, and somewhere locked behind the bathroom door, weeping, strained like he’s trying to be quiet.)

Suffice to say, waking up to a note is not the worst way Julius has been woken, but today it feels like it. It’s folded into a triangle, signed with Alistair’s distinctive sloppy cursive:

You know that kitten I fell in love with at the shelter? She’s officially up for adoption! I’m going to go cuddle with her for a bit. They say adoption takes a few days but I could be bringing her home as soon as Friday! Didn’t want to wake you since you’ve been so tired. :( 
I’ll be home by 5:30. Make sure to eat something! Love you
. -A

For reasons he can’t explain, Julius’s eyes fill with tears. He sniffles wretchedly and buries his face in Alistair’s pillow.




It’s like this, some days.

He’s sitting at their little kitchen island, feet perched on the bottom of the stool, shivering in one of Alistair’s too-big hoodies, sleeves folded over his trembling fingers. He has two pieces of toast in front of him - two more than he wants to be eating, because Alistair asked him to. It’s late afternoon - he can’t believe he slept this long - and his bladder is still full from when he woke, a dull, sloshing ache low in his belly. That coupled with the way his stomach has tightened around his anxiety, the lump in his throat that’s two parts nervousness and at least one part he’s not here and I need him, would be enough to curb his appetite on a good day, but today…

He remembers high school, his lunches spent in bathroom stalls, and to his shame, to his utter horror, he is not repulsed by the memory. In fact, he kind of misses it.

It’s like this, some days.



Alistair sends him a picture of himself cradling a kitten, a wide, reckless grin on his face. True to Alistair fashion, he’s coupled the objectively adorable photo with a self-deprecating and horribly punctuated caption - can i keep him mom? :p - and Julius musters a watery grin. He’s curled up on the couch, now. He forced himself to do the opposite of what he wanted to do, choking down not two but four slices of toast washed down with a large glass of milk, proving to himself that he’s in control. He regrets it, now. The food sits heavy on his stomach, burbling and groaning intermittently. He swears he can feel it churning beneath the palm he has pressed to his tummy, and the pressure is almost unbearable. He still hasn’t relieved his bladder, and the dull ache has escalated to a sharp, constant pain that increases his nausea tenfold, but he can’t bring himself to go to the bathroom. He’s frightened of what may happen if he does - of how his stomach will rebel, or worse, how he’ll make it rebel. How he’ll cause Alistair pain. How he’ll…he’ll mess up, and everything will be ruined, and it will be his fault, and he’s always like this, always doing this, why does Alistair stay with him, anyways, and it’s probably just out of pity, and -

He’s worked himself into quite a state, fat tears spilling over his lips and down his chin, trembling in his stolen hoodie. He realizes there’s no one to keep quiet for, and he buries his face in the couch cushions, letting out a keening wail. His heart aches. More than anything he wants to be held. 

He sobs, curled up around himself, the pressure in his belly increasing. He thinks he’ll pop if it gets any worse, his stomach absurdly bloated and churning wretchedly in his hands. 

He thinks that’d be okay with him.



He knows he’s being ridiculous, is the thing.
Alistair loves him. Of course he does. The family you choose is just as strong as the family you’re born to - stronger, in Alistair’s case - and they certainly chose each other, every time they curled together like a couple of parentheses when they were kids, giggling under blanket forts at sleepovers, Julius dabbing Alistair’s bruised eyes and cut faces and resolutely talking about anything but how they got there, Alistair threatening anyone who dared to look at them wrong, Alistair tucking Julius’s hair behind his ears, kissing every part of him that made him feel like he had to do what he did in high school…

But what if? 

He said he’d be back by 5:30. 

What if he’s gone? Taken the kitten and run? Alistair runs from his problems. It’s not unreasonable. Julius wouldn’t blame him, it’s a lot to cope with… his breathing has sped up, and the pressure in his belly is increasing, increasing–


The burp is unexpected, and he presses a fist to his mouth, feeling incredibly ill and flushing even though there’s no one to hear him. The milk really isn’t sitting well, curdling in his stomach, and Julius grits his teeth and forces back any further expulsions of air. He didn’t think the pressure could increase any higher. His bladder is screaming, but he can’t, he just can’t, and Alistair is gone and he can’t do this anymore–

He can’t do this anymore.

He stands up, both hands pressed to his aching tummy, desperately trying to keep the contents of his stomach where they belong. He just needs to get to bed, put his face in Alistair’s pillow -
But what if Alistair is gone? What if he’s never coming back? 

A darker thought crosses his anxious mind. 

What if Alistair isn’t back…because he can’t be? 

Alistair’s father tracking him down, finding him on the street…at the animal shelter…Alistair lying on the ground covered in blood…


This, of all things, is what undoes him. His knees buckle, and he drags himself to the bathroom, barely making it over the toilet. His belly emits one last, desperate gurgle, and he heaves.


He begins to sob as he heaves over the toilet, all that pressure in his tummy releasing itself at once. He misses Alistair desperately, and his hitching breaths are started to tip toward hyperventilation. He’s gone…he’s pushed Alistair away, he thinks he did this on purpose….the thought upsets him so much that he–


With that, the other pressure – the sloshing, aching pressure in his lower belly –is unbearable. His bladder, which has been struggling for far too long now, bursts.

His vision is starting to blur as his breaths grow faster and faster in time with his hysterical crying. He can’t– he won’t–

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he does this:

Sent: 5:47pm
To: Star <3
please help me

Julius curls himself as small as he can against the bathtub, terrified, shaking so hard he can’t see straight.

He hopes.


Alistair’s nearly home when his phone buzzes. He got caught up letting the cat nuzzle him for hours, tantalizing the tiny thing with treats and toys until she curled up, exhausted, on Alistair’s lap. Then, of course, he couldn’t possibly move her. 

A soft smile curls his lips upward when he sees that the text is from Julius–probably an absurdly supportive response to that selfie with the kitten–until he reads it and the smile drops from his face. 

Alistair runs.


Jules?!” He tries not to scream, but his heart is pounding out of his chest. If something happened to Julius and he wasn’t here to protect him - if someone hurt Jules - if he failed so dramatically and Jules was hurt for it, Alistair will offer himself up to his father on a platter. There’s no coming back from that. 

He searches the living room frantically, fists balled nervously, ready to tear apart whoever dared hurt his Jules, when he hears it from the bathroom. The softest, most heartbreaking cry. He recognizes it immediately. 

“Jules?! What’s wrong, are you hurt?! What’s–” He stops short when he bursts into the bathroom, sees the mess of the toilet and floor, and in the middle of it, Julius, wearing one of Alistair’s own sweatshirts and emitting high, keening sobs. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” He crouches down in front of his boyfriend, gathering him to his chest. Julius’s entire body is heaving with sobs, and he struggles out of Alistair’s arms, pulling back, and Alistair feels a flash of hurt before Julius is saying “Star? I thought you had left–” and is suddenly gagging over the toilet. Alistair holds him tightly, tears forming in his own eyes, rubs his back and presses kisses to the back of his neck. 

“Are you sick, love?” Alistair’s voice is very, very soft. He doesn’t know how to do this, never has, but Julius likes words, likes comfort and affection, and fuck, Alistair has never seen him look so broken. So yes, pet names it is.

  “No–I j–I just–I tried–” 

Julius is weeping so hard he can barely speak, hyperventilating between sobs, and Alistair’s heart just can’t take it. 

“Come here, sweetheart.” 

He’s crying so fucking hard, is the thing. His forehead isn’t hot, and he wasn’t sniffly before Alistair left. Maybe he’s just sad. 

Alistair can’t do words, so he carries him. 

He starts the tub, takes note of Julius’s trembling and heats it until steam is billowing, empties some of their pine-scented bubble bath (for special occasions, Alistair! Jules has chided him more than once) into it. Gently, he strips Julius of his clothes, and it’s when he flinches, wraps protective arms around his stomach, that Alistair understands. 

It was one of Julius’s anxiety days…and Alistair wasn’t here. 

He pushes his own hurt aside - it’s not time for him to handle his hurt right now - and gathers Jules closer than ever. He takes off his own clothes and lifts Julius into the bath, pulling him against his chest. 

“What can I do, Jules?” he murmurs, carding a hand through his hair. “How can I fix it?” 

He’s quiet for a long moment, save his crying, each tear hitting Alistair like bullets. (Like blows. Like his father’s hands. Unworthy. Unworthy. Unworthy.)

“Just hold me?” He finally says, so quietly, like he’s scared Alistair will say no. “I know I’m gross…I couldn’t even…make it to the toilet…” 

“Shhh,” Alistair soothes, pressing kisses to his boyfriend’s forehead. “I of all people understand. Accidents happen. I’m sorry I left you,” he grinds out, the last part scraping like glass. The guilt pools in his ribcage, oily and sick. “Of course I’ll hold you, Jules.”
He lets him cry, lets him curl into his chest, and when his hands finally relax, loosen their grip on his belly, Alistair presses a warm hand to the swollen flesh, rubbing gently.
“My tummy hurts,” Jules mumbles.
“I know. I’m sorry. Is the rub helping?”
“Yeah,” he says, and pauses. “You’re never this mushy.” He presses his face into Alistair’s collarbone.
“And you’re never this sad. But don’t worry. I’ll make up for it by giving you lots of shit tomorrow.” He holds this boy so tight, and he feels the ghost of a smile on his collarbone, so yeah, he’ll call that a victory.
A moment goes by. “Star, what if I could never eat again? What if it stayed this bad?”
Alistair thinks about it for a moment. “I’d stay, always. I’ll make you chamomile tea for every meal.”
“Mmmm. Tea.”
Alistair smiles. “I’ll make some for you when we get out.”
“Let’s stay a little longer.”
Alistair continues rubbing Julius’s upset tummy, his free hand clasped in Julius’s and the sick boy’s shoulders begin to sag as the shaking stops.
“I’ll stay forever,” Alistair says.

It’s like this, some days.


Summary: Felicity deals with PPD, and Oliver tries to help her through it.

I owe a very big thank you hug to the wonderful @the-silverforked-sky, who made me feel a lot better about tackling such a hard topic and now has the title of being the first and only person to beta one of my fics! I appreciate the work you did. Thank you for all of your help on this and for being so incredibly thoughtful!


Oliver’s head snapped up at the sound of her shrill voice, "Felicity!?“ He dropped the pan and spatula he’d been making breakfast with and ran for the stairs, feeling like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him as soon as he heard her yell his name.


Oliver hopped the railing at the top of the stairs and stumbled into their son or daughter's room. “Baby, are you okay?” He asked, breathless from his heart dropping into his stomach. Felicity stood in front of the body-length mirror. She looked at him through the reflection.


She pulled up her shirt and placed her palm over her stomach. Oliver sighed, trying to calm himself down now that he knew she was okay. "Felicity. You’ve been pregnant for a month, you’re not showing yet.“

"Yes I am, Oliver. Don’t you see the bump!? I think it’s a boy.”

He chuckled, “There is no way that you could know the gender based on a bump that you barely have.”

“So you see it?” She asked, smiling widely as she turned around, pushing her stomach out.

“No,” he laughed again, refusing to admit it no matter how adorable she was. “I can’t wait until we can see that little baby growing. But that day isn’t today.”

Felicity frowned. “It’s going to be a boy.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side at how confident she sounded. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I can feel it.” She shrugged, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his middle. “And he’s going to be just as strong, and handsome, and brave as his daddy.”

Keep reading

A Number of Those Three Words

Five times Owen tries to tell Claire he loves her, and the one time she hears. Based on a prompt I got on AO3. I’m not really sure that I like how this turned out, but I’m going to post it anyways.

1. The first time he tells her he loves her, it’s kind of an accident, and she’s not even there to hear it.

He’s reading a note she left stuck to the door of the raptor pen. (Because of course she’d be the type to leave a note after hours instead of coming to talk to him face-to-face or, heaven forbid, call him on the phone.) Even though it’s just a notice about turning his paperwork in on time, the words she has printed on the note in her impeccable penmanship make him laugh because it’s just so her. As he’s shaking his head and chuckling, the “Oh, Claire, I love you,” that slips out feels as natural as breathing, despite their enormous failure of a date.

It’s only when he looks up to find Barry eyeing him with a strange expression on his dark features that Owen realizes what he’s said. Barry doesn’t say anything about it, though, so neither does he. He does spend the rest of the day wondering whether or not he meant it.

2. The second time, it’s not so much that he verbalizes it as writes it. He’s stuck in yet another agonizingly long board meeting, trapped in a stiff suit that definitely doesn’t belong in a Central American climate. There are, however, two pluses to the situation, he notes. Claire is trapped in the meeting with him (though knowing her, she probably enjoys events such as these) and he did catch her staring at him a moment too long when he appeared in the board room no less than ten minutes late but wearing a full suit and tie. He decides that he might wear suits more often when he sees the faint blush appear on her cheeks. The color lingers a few moments even after she clears her throat and snaps her eyes back to the speaker at the head of the table.

The conference drags on and on, and Owen’s certain that they’ve been trapped here for most of the day, but when he checks his watch, it’s only been a little over an hour. The meeting switches speakers, and someone hands out packets of information while the speaker pulls up a power point packed with meaningless data and graphs to make it look fancy. Owen absently leafs through the information packet with his head propped on a fist. Judging by the scratching sound of pencil on paper around the table, he’s supposed to be taking notes. He’d long ago tuned out the speaker, though, because they only seem to keep rehashing issues previously discussed, so he picks up his pencil and begins doodling in the margins instead.

Occasionally members around the table will chime in on the discussion, and Owen finds himself looking forward to the times Claire speaks or takes the lead in the discussion, even if it is just rattling off data points and statistics. At least then if he stares it just looks like he’s actually paying attention, instead of memorizing the soft way her lips move when she talks, or the way the tips her copper hair brush her shoulders. While she speaks, his pencil idly traces over and over the doodle in the margins of his paper. She’d most defiantly kill him if saw it.

So maybe doodling the name Claire with a heart around it isn’t very mature, and definitely doesn’t apply to the meeting, but it’s about all his brain will focus on at the moment.

3. The third time he tells her he loves her, their world has fallen apart around them. There’s fire and ash and ruble and red, so much red. They run. They fight. And somehow, though it all, they stick together. He can’t think about the countless times he’s almost lost her, how much everything has changed in a few hours, because if he does, he thinks he might fall apart, and he can’t fall apart now because they’re still fighting to survive. He has to keep going for Claire, for her nephews.

In the end, she’s the one that saves them all. When he sees her round the corner, bright red flare in her hand and Tyrannosaurus and her heals, he’s terrified beyond belief and utterly amazed, and he thinks he is most certainly 100% in love with Claire Dearing. He’s seen another side of her today, a side that is unbelievably strong, brave, and selfless. She is the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.

Then the mosasaur leaps from the water in a mighty rush, and it’s all over so fast it’s hard to believe that this is really the end. Zach and Gray are running towards Claire, and somehow Owen’s arms end up around her while the two boys clutch at the both of them. They’re a mess; Gray is crying, and he’s pretty sure Zach is too. Then lights are flashing and emergency personnel are surrounding them and ushering them towards a building they’ve set up as an evacuation center.

Owen tightens his grip on Claire and buries his face in her shoulder. The’ ’I love you’ he whispers in pure relief is lost in the commotion.

4. The fourth time he tells her he loves her, he means every word of it with everything in him. He’s so beyond-a-doubt sure of it that it scares him a little, because they don’t actually know each other very well, all things considered. And if it scares him, it might scare her, so he tries with everything in him not to say it. Not yet, at least. He can’t even imagine life without her anymore.

They’d headed back to the States and left the island far behind. In the two weeks since the ‘incident’, as they’ve, come to call it, they’ve hardly spent more than a few hours apart. He’d had no where to go and readily accepted when she’d offered a place in her apartment, even if it was only on her couch.

It was simultaneously so comforting to have her near all the the time and also incredibly frustrating. Frustrating in that she’d sometimes stand close enough that he could see the faint dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and he desperately wanted to brush his lips across each and every one of them. Or how in the mornings, when she’d blow on her tea to cool it down, her pink lips would form a prefect O, and it look all his willpower not to just pull her flush against him and kiss her. Or how sometimes when they’d watch a movie together late at night, she’d fall asleep with her head on his shoulder where he could smell the soft scent of her shampoo, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her.

Or how when she’d have a nightmare and cry out in her sleep, it was like a physical pain in his chest, and he’d run to her side and comb his fingers through her hair until she fell back asleep.

They may have left the island, but the island never really left them.

One night he’s awakened by the sound of her tossing and turning. He doesn’t even have to think as his bare feet pad down the hall to her room. He gently pushes the door open and peers inside. The light from the moon glows softly through the window, and he sees that she’s already awake and sitting with her arms around her knees and her face buried in her lap. She looks up and chokes back a sob as he walks in, and his chest clenches at the sight of her tear stained face. He do anything to never see her cry. He motions for her to scooch over, and he sits next to her on the bed.

“It’s my fault,” she says, and her voice is thick with tears. At first he thinks she must be still partially asleep, because that doesn’t make any sense.

“What’s your fault Claire?” he asks softly.

“Everything.” A fresh wave of tears rolls down her cheeks, and his heart breaks. He reaches over and pulls her into his lap, tucking her head against his chest and brushing the tears away with his thumb.

“Oh Claire, it’s not your fault.” He knows what she means. He’s found countless ways to blame himself for what happened on the island. If only he hadn’t gone into the Indominous paddock until they had checked her location with the control room. If only, if only, if only.

“Yes it is.” Her fingers twist his shirt. “I was one of the people who authorized the creation of that monster. I could have stopped it. I could’ve stopped all of it, and I didn’t. And now I’m the only one who’s not…” Her voice quivers, and the word ’dead’ hangs in the silence. “So It’s my fault,” she repeats, and he pulls her tighter against her chest.

“It’s not your fault, Claire. Blaming yourself won’t solve anything.” He swallows. “Believe me, I’ve tried.” She doesn’t say anything in reply, and he doesn’t know what he could possibly say to make her feel better, so he stays quiet, gently threading his fingers through her hair, hoping that maybe just being there for her would be enough. Eventually her sobs fade and her breathing slows, her eyelids fluttering shut. He gently runs the pad of his thumb over her cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear and desperately trying to ignore how warm she is, how good it feels to have her in his arms, and how easy it would be for him to fall asleep just like this.

He doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, though, so he carefully untangles her from his arms and lays her back down on her pillow, pulling the blankets up snugly around her. Silently he climbs off her bed, giving her one last lingering look before returning to his quarters on the living room couch.

He lays down and picks up the blankets from where they’d fallen onto the floor, but now he’s the one who can’t sleep. When he closes his eyes he sees the blood, hears the screams, so he settles for keeping his eyes open and focused on the ceiling tiles till his lids grow heavy. He’s learned to pass the time by counting heartbeats, each one a steady reminder that he’s alive. That the nightmare is over. He can’t help but think that it would be easier if he had Claire close enough to feel her heartbeat too.

Just as Owen is beginning to doze off, he hears footsteps padding lightly down the hall, the slight stick of bare feat making their way towards the couch. He wordlessly pulls his blankets back, and Claire climbs onto the couch, settling her head on his chest under his chin, draping her legs between his. He pulls the blankets back up around them, and his hands find a place on her back, holding her close.

He feels the steady beat of her heart against his chest, and in that moment, he feels like everything might be okay. They’re both alive. They’re both safe.

“I love you,” he whispers before he can even think about it.

But she’s already asleep.

5. The fifth time he tells her, she’s mad at him, and he’s being a jerk and he knows it. It’s definitely not because he’s jealous.

It’s all Karen’s fault, really. With her troublesome marriage, she was at an all-time low in her own love life, and, as a result, had taken it upon herself to help her sister out with her’s.

After the incident at Jurassic World, Karen and Scott have been trying to repair their relationship, for the sake of the boys at least. It seemed unfair that after going through such a traumatic event they would then have to witness the divide of their family. So, with the goal of repairing her relationship with Scott and helping Claire out in the romance department, Karen had come up with the idea of a double date. At first Karen’s sons had her convinced that Owen was "Aunt Claire’s bad-ass boyfriend”, so she figured that a double date with her and Scott, and Claire and Owen would be the perfect opportunity to accomplish both of her missions, as well as finally get to know Owen better. When she found out that this was not the case, she had balked.

“What do you mean, 'not actually together’? He lives with you, for Christ’s sake!” Karen had exclaimed.

“He’s just sleeping on my couch until he finds a place of his own.” Claire had insisted. She didn’t mention that he hasn’t even looked for a place of his own (she thinks she might die if he ever left) or that most nights he ends up sleeping next to her in her bed.

Karen raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Claire, you’d have to be blind to miss how much he cares about you.”

A simple statement that that shouldn’t have made her feel like her heart might pound right out of her chest.

“Well, it’s not like there have been any offers.” Claire told her. “Besides, it’s not like that.”

“If you say so.”

And so, Karen had taken it upon herself to fix her sister’s lack-of-romance problem, insisting that in order to really heal from her traumatic experience, Claire needed to start moving on with her life.

She of course had to set Claire up with an unfairly attractive and wealthy lawyer with an affinity for three-piece suits.

Ok, so Owen is completely jealous.

Because this lawyer guy is much more of Claire’s type than Owen could ever possibly hope to be. And now he’s fuming, because he’s partially to blame for this whole situation. He should have done something, should have said something sooner, because now it’s too late and now he might loose Claire. And he is beyond terrified of loosing her.

Claire’s not exactly happy either. She doesn’t know what she expected Owen to do when she first told him about her date, (jump up and declare his undying love for her?) but it certainly wasn’t his emotionless response of “Oh, have fun,” while continuing to sit on the couch and stare at the TV, not even looking her way once.

(If she had looked just a little more closely, she might have noticed the way his mouth pressed into a firm line, the way his knuckles whitened around the remote, or heard the faint crunching of plastic in his fingers.)

The next day, the day of the dreaded date, as it’s been labeled in Owen’s mind, he begins formulating ideas to sabotage Claire’s date. Maybe he feels a little guilty about it, but come on. There’s no way he can let her go through with this, right? Claire’s out running some errands, so he has plenty of time to himself to come up with a foolproof plan. He spends the next several hours coming up with several ideas, but quickly abandons all of them. Setting the restaurant on fire seemed a bit extreme, and could likely result in Claire getting hurt and him ending up in jail, so that plan is off the list. He’d considered disguising himself as a waiter, but he’s fairly certain Claire would recognize him. Maybe, if there was a car accident near the restaurant blocking all traffic…. No, no. That will never work. He can’t think of any ways to organize a car accident. And besides, they could always just go to another restaurant. He needs a plan that will ruin the date before they’ve even left…

An idea pops into his mind.

Owen jumps off the couch and swiftly crosses the living room to the door of the apartment, stepping out into the hallway. His eyes quickly scan the walls before coming to rest on a small red box. He quickly approaches the fire alarm, taking note of the emergency sprinklers attached to the ceiling. Staring at the fire alarm, a plan begins to develop in his mind. If he pulls the fire alarm right after Claire and her date leave the apartment, the sprinklers would be activated, drenching them and ruining their outfits. Plus, with the commotion that pulling the alarm would undoubtedly cause and the arrival of the fire department and emergency vehicles, there would be to time for them to change clothes in time for their date. Yes, this could work.

And that’s when Claire rounds the hallway corner, back from her errands, to find Owen staring at the fire alarm like it holds the answers to the universe.

“What are you doing?” Claire’s voice, sounding a good deal suspicious, finally pulls Owen out of his thoughts. He turns around to find her staring at him, both arms loaded down with grocery bags and a puzzled expression on her face.

He glances back at the fire alarm. “It had dust on it,” was the only thing he came come up with as he uses his fingers to brush invisible dust from the top of the box. She doesn’t seem convinced, but the grocery bags are cutting off the circulation to her arms and she’s already running behind, so she lets it go and turns towards the door to their apartment.

“Well, I have to go get ready for my date,” she says, carefully watching his expression. If she emphasized those last two words, he pretends not to notice. She quickly enters the apartment, leaving him alone in the hallway, his plan already dissolving. He eyes the fire alarm one last time before walking back into the apartment and plopping back down on the couch.

He can’t do this to Claire. She’s already put a lot of effort into this date. If she wants to go out with this guy, fine. She deserves to be happy, even if it’s not with him. Doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it, though. He keeps telling himself this, wishing it didn’t hurt so much.

He can hear her getting ready in the bathroom, and it’s slowly driving him insane, knowing that all this effort she’s putting in isn’t for him. Knowing that tonight, she’s someone else’s. Not that she was ever his to begin with.

When he can’t stand it anymore, get get’s up and walks over to the bathroom. She has her makeup done and she’s just finishing up straightening her hair. She looks utterly stunning. And it’s not for him.

“Should I call and warn about the board shorts?” He shouldn’t have said that, and he knows it, but venting his frustration as sarcasm has always come naturally to him.

She jumps in surprise, snapping the flat iron closed right on the top of her ear, hissing in pain and frustration. She hadn’t noticed him approach, but, sure enough, Owen is there, arms crossed and leaning against the bathroom door frame.

“I’m not even going to answer that.” Her voice is icy, and his chuckle is empty.

She doesn’t mean for it to come out quite that snippy, but she’s running behind, her date will be here any minute, and she doesn’t have time for his childish nonsense.

“Don’t forget the itinerary.”

If looks could kill…

“Hey,” he raises his hands in mock surrender, “ I just wanna make sure you have a good time.”

It occurs to her that maybe he’s stalling her, and that maybe she should be flattered, but instead she’s just frustrated. She’s been hoping this whole time that he would show some sort of reaction, and of course now he has to take a sudden interest in her date when she’s going to be late.

She unplugs her flat iron and storms out of the bathroom.

“Why do you even care?”

He thinks it might be easier if she sounded angry, or hurt, or something, but instead her voice is devoid of emotion, and he doesn’t know what to say. The silence stretches on just a few moments before there is a crisp knock on the door. Claire straightens her shoulders, throws Owen one last indecipherable look, and turns to open the door.

Her date is there, in an immaculate charcoal suit and matching tie, smiling at Claire in a way that makes Owen’s blood boil. When he tells Claire she looks beautiful, Owen feels something inside of him die a little, because he thinks of all the times he should have told Claire that, how it should be him standing at the door, ready to take Claire on a date. How he completely blew his chance, and now he might never get another.

Then the door slams shut and they’re gone, the sound echoing in his ears along with Claire’s question, ’why do you even care?’. Owen sighs and drags a hand over his face, shoulders slumping.

“Because I love you, Claire.” The empty room gives no response.

6. They’re on their way back to the island. (And - Owen can’t help but feel glad - far far away from that stupid lawyer and his stupid suits, even if his date with Claire didn’t work out.) Some people (Karen) think they’re crazy. Insane to go back there. And maybe they are. But as the helicopter breaks through the thick mist over the ocean, and the majestic green hills of the island, their island, come into view, they can’t help but feel like they’re coming home.

When they were first approached with the offer to join a team going back to the island, Owen, in less polite words, and basically told InGen and Masrani Global that they could take their offer and shove it up somewhere it would never see the light of day. No way in hell would they ever go back there.

But little by little, the idea began to seem less and less awful. They tried to forget, tried to put the island behind them and move on. They really did. But after living in a place so incredible, living a dream for so ling, normal life couldn’t possibly compare. Isla Nublar held a magic they couldn’t resist. And maybe, just maybe, by beginning to pick up the physical broken pieces of their world, they could finally begin to piece themselves back together. Because while this is the place that broke them, it’s also the place that made them who they are.

Things go slowly at first, and then everything starts falling back into place. They’ve cleared the main street of most of the debris, and construction has begun to repair the major damages. The most dangerous of the dinosaurs, like the tyrannosaurus, are successfully lured back into containment, and plans are being made for the few remaining apatosaurus and repairing the aviary.

When Barry returns to the island, he and Owen manage to track down Blue, their sole remaining velociraptor. Owen’s even convinced InGen to sponsor a new batch of raptors.

All in all, things are good. It seems a little too good to be true, actually, but so far things are running smoothly, progress being made one step at a time.

Sticking together for survival hasn’t ended here, either. Once it’s safe, both Claire and Owen take up residence in Owen’s bungalow, and it’s both as perfect as sharing her apartment, and a thousand times more frustrating. Frustrating in that the Central American sun makes the faint dusting of freckles blossom across her cheeks and nose, and he still desperately wants to brush his lips across each and every one of them. Or how in the mornings, when she blows on her tea to cool it down, she’ll wear once of his shirts, and it takes every once of his self control to kiss her and tear it off of her. Or how he wakes up in the mornings to her bright red hair fanned across his pillow, and while he loves the relationship they have (whatever that is) he can’t help but want so much more.

Just having her near is enough, though, and he doesn’t want to ruin it, so they each go about their individual lives and jobs, and sleep next to each other at night.

Their jobs keep them apart during most of the days, though. Claire is back in her position as Senior Assets Manager, and overseeing most the the repairs to the park keeps her busy late into the evenings. Owen is busy taking care of Blue, reestablishing their relationship, and tending to three new raptor eggs in the labs.

One day, Claire stops by the lab to drop off some paperwork, only to find Owen there. It’s during most employees lunch break, and he’s the only one there, smiling more brightly than she’s seen in a long time, holding three brand new velociraptor hatchlings. He’s got one curled up on his shoulder, and one cradled in each arm.

“Claire!” His excitement is palpable, and he beckons her over the best he can with his arms full. Despite her better judgment, she sets her stack of paperwork on a counter top and approaches Owen, a smile growing on her own face. “Claire, meet Dusk,” he gestures to the raptor infant on his shoulder, “Ember,” he shows her the one in his left arm, “And…” Before she has a chance to protest, Owen plops the last raptor into Claire’s arms. “This is Clara.”

Claire freezes, the small dinosaur dangling awkwardly from her hands. She blinks, and the creature blinks in return, making a soft purring sound deep in its throat. Its leathery skin is actually quite soft, and, surprising even herself, Claire tucks it carefully into the crook of her arm. Owen is watching her with a look of pure adoration, and, stupidly, the only thing she can think of to say is, “Clara?”

Owen chuckles. “Named after the one and only.” He shrugs. “With a slight twist, of course, to avoid confusion.” Claire looks at the small velociraptor in her arms and smiles, and Owen can’t help but grin watching them.

The scene before him is just so perfect that before Owen even realizes what he’s doing, his lips are on Claire’s.

Claire squeaks in surprise, but then she relaxes and actually kisses him back, winding her free arm around the back of his neck, careful not to crush the baby raptors between them or bump the one on his shoulder. He pulls back, slightly breathless, his forehead brushing hers, her arm still around his neck. He watches her carefully as her eyes flutter open, her chest rising and falling against his.

“Kiss me again?”

He does. Again, and again, and again.

“I love you,” he mumbles between kisses. It’s only when she suddenly freezes that Owen realizes what he’s said, and for a moment all he can think is that he just ruined the moment, ruined their relationship, and now Claire will never speak to him again.

“What?” is all Claire can manage to say.

“I love you?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but that’s how it comes out. Since she hasn’t run away yet, he repeats it, more firmly this time. “I love you.” She remains silent for what seems like an absolute eternity, but when she finally raises her eyes to meet his, she has that small shy smile of hers on her lips.

“Good. Because I love you too.” It takes his brain a moment to process what she just said, but when it does, he has to remind himself to breathe.


“Really.” He presses his lips firmly to hers once more.

“Say it again?” he asks, and her soft laugh is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“I love you, Owen Grady.”

Owen can’t help but think that in this moment, everything is perfect. He has his island, his home, he has his raptors, and he has Claire.


Bill took a deep breath and couldn’t really believe what he saw in the mirror. He loosened and re-tied his bow-tie again, he lost count how often he had been doing this, watching his fingers move slowly in a numb lull of his own thoughts. He never thought he’d make it this far, he never thought he’d be here doing this of all things. Him, Bill cipher, the eye of providence and all knowing starter of the long forgotten Weirdmaggedon.

Was about to get married. To a human. In a human body.

He didn’t feel real, which was funny because he knows what “real” and “reality” is; Fake, a lie. But he’s spent so much time, irrelevant time, at least until he met her. Spent it with her, laughing with her. Everything became relevant and precious and just too little when he was with her. He didn’t feel real, the sounds around him were fuzzy and muffled and his eyes, all two of them were unfocused and blurry. She always had a way of making him feel, and not just anything simple either but strong, confusing, explainable things even for him which was amazing, he thought that and said that a lot when around her.

Her. He loved her, couldn’t get away from her even if he tried. Even if he wanted to. He’d never want to.

The door behind him opened but he didn’t know, he had been in front of that wall length mirror for twenty minutes now, his soon-to-be-brother-in-law had been counting. there was a hand on his shoulder, soft, gentle, his head turned to look down at the brunette with a blank stare. His voice was muffled and Bill blinked in confusion but Dipper kept speaking softly until his voice became crystal clear.

“Are you okay?” He was whispering, as if anything else would startle the demon and honestly he was correct in the notion. His hand was removed from the shoulder and held firmly between two heated hands as they stared, a bit awkwardly at one another.

Bill remembers when Dipper first heard about their relationship. It was ugly, scared her away and made her cry, he was so angry. That had been when she had just turned eighteen, which was about five years ago now. Five years, he had been with her for five years. Time really does fly by like the humans say, especially when you make one the center of your universe. He picked up a lot of terms and sayings from them, hasn’t he?

Especially from her. Wow, he loved her, that’s why he’s here today, in this body today. She doesn’t know about his body yet, he’s nervous, what if she doesn’t find him attractive? Civil, he knows, but he can’t deny these things, he gave up a long time ago. Dipper has grown so oddly fond of him, it’s almost scary. Of course they still argue and disagree on many things but he’s been able to just ‘hang out’ with him plenty of times now as if they were good friends. Here Dipper is, attempting to comfort him. Dipper patted down Bill’s suit, black and yellow like Mabel had requested. Dipper was wearing the same colors only reversed so there was less gold and more black on him.

“Bill, I’m not losing you right now, am i? Because i swear to god if you’re having cold feet right now of all times…” The threat was empty and Bill wanted to scoff at the 'God’ part but he stayed blank and instead patted down the fluffy hair on the man’s head. He shook his own softly, still getting used to simple motor functions coming so naturally to him. The door opened again and her father was standing in the door way, all broad and intimidation with soft eyes and a weary expression.

“We’re all set to go, Bill.” His gruff voice always reminded Bill of the Stan’s and he could even hear it slightly in Dipper’s own tone. Bill nodded toward the man, he’s been very kind toward him, her mother as well. He can’t believe he was ever nervous to meet them at first, their just as dorky and goofy as their children.

The three men started to walk out, gliding effortlessly down the carpeted hall to the incredibly large ceremony room at the end.

He remembers first meeting her, all the way back when she was twelve. He remembers first hearing her laugh, her smile, those braces and sweaters, that fiery excitement and expendable energy. Nothing really changed, she still had slightly crooked teeth which he loved, she kept many of her old sweaters, her smile, laugh and personality only grew stronger, age didn’t hold her down nor did adulthood. She was perfect, one in sextillion stars, a Shooting Star, his incredible star.

He loved her, and he hated love but she made him feel it, she made him understand it and want nothing but it, but her. She did so much for him; She made him feel the passing of time, breathe air, smell flowers, touch silk, braid hair, cry in happiness or sadness, laugh uncontrollably for all the right reasons, get angry over nothing at all, feel protective, hold her close, never want to let go, enjoy a single moment, cuddle for hours, talk for days, sleep peacefully, hold hands for no reason, kiss not for lust but pure affection, everything. She made him feel and do everything with her, for her, by her side.

When she stepped through, that’s all he knew for the next few moments. It was her, just her, that hair, the dress, the smile, the perfectly applied make-up, the strawberry and cotton candy scent, the enchanting voice that spoke everything he wanted to hear. He almost forgot to reply and continue the ceremony but it all came down to finally saying it, being here doing something that he never, ever once even assumed would be something he would be doing, let alone be so monumentally important to him, physically and emotionally.

“Do you take Mabel Pines as your lawfully wedded wife?”

He loved Her. No doubt about it.

“Of course i do.”

Naw. Pabo-ya (Wonho Scenario)

Heheheheheh here’s your present <33 @multiplebiased


Originally posted by wonhuff

Oh god, the food is gonna burn! / Y/N COME ON NOT AGAIN.” The boys were laughing. “Yah, that’s not my fault okay? You guys keep talking to me." 

You were in a family house, on jeju island. It was quiet off, just for the boys’ security, that’s why you couldn’t order food. "It’s not burnt, you can eat it…” You said, kinda sad, that you messed up again. “It’s okay, jagi. Things like that happen.” Wonho stood behinf you, laying his head on your shoulder, he tried not to laugh, just because he didn’t want to make you sad, but it didn’t really work. “YAH! Wonho, that’s not funny.” “I know, I know. But you need to hurry up now. We’ll leave in 2,5 hours.” “Okay, I’ll hop into the shower and then get ready.”  "Don’t forget baby, today is the first time you’re gonna be seen in a live stream.“ Right…

You nodded with a slight pink tone on your cheeks, wonho wanted you to be in the live stream today, he wanted his fans to see you. He was sure now, the fans really loved you without even knowing you. At first both of you were scared to make it official, but monbebe were really supportive. And now, after a year of being official, and three years of being a couple, he wanted to show the world who he fell in love with… well, that’s how he said it at least. 

After getting the boys meal ready, you went upstairs, opened your luggage, and took a shower. You stood under the warm water for about, 30 minutes. It was nice just to stand there, and to think about everything that happened. You were on vacation with 6 of your best friends, and your boyfriend, on Jeju Island. It was so overwhelming, and now.. you had to show your face to thousands of people. It wasn’t like you were scared or anything. But the pressure on your shoulders was high, normally you would post tweets or pictures on their social media, which means you could think about it a lot of times, but speaking live was different. You had to think about your words. Chose them wisely. 

You shrugged off the bad feelings, and decided to think about the good ones. You were here with him, he was by your side no matter what would happen later on, and you would spent your birthday with all of them. Yes, on top off all that, it was your birthday tomorrow. But then again, you cleaned your mind, and started showering. You had 1,5 hours left now. After sitting on your bed for another 15 minutes, you slowly started to get ready, and do your hair. For today, you wanted it curly, and your makeup was decent. All of that took an hour, when you walked over to your luggage, wonho knocked on the door loudly. "Babe? Can I come in?”  "Sure, come in.“ "First of all, you look so pretty, even in big clothes. And secondly,… this is for you.” He said shyly, while handing you a present. “What is this?” “It’s an early birthday present… I want you to wear it today… If you want it too of course.”  "Aww, thank you Oppa. But you really didn’t have to get me anything.“  "Shh, that’s nothing. Now get ready we don’t have much time left.” Befire leaving, he kissed you forehead, and left afterwards. 

“Wow..” you had to say, while opening the package. He bought you a whole outfit, shoes, a shirt, pants and even jewelery. The shorts he got you wear loose, but leather shorts. They had a small bow, right in the middle of the belt. Also, a beige, loose and super thin jumper. Maching shoes and a necklace. His taste in fashion was really good, so you really liked the outfit, and were kinda touched that he thought about something. 

“How do I look?” You asked jokingly, getting all of the attention. “Noona, is that you?” I.m asked, causing you to stick out your tounge and laughing at him. “You look great.” Wonho looked at you with big eyes, he came over and hugged you, really tightly. “We should go now." 

The place for the stream wasn’t to far, it was a nice place, near the ocean. No one was there, but it was dark also. "What time is it now?” You asked the boys. “23.30.” Oh wow… The time passed by fast. Shownu and Minhyuk built up the camera and some lights. And when that was ready, they started the camera. 

Hello Monbebe. How are you today?” Shownu asked after the first comments got in. He started to talk a little, and after a while the comments started to ask about you. Shownu looked at Wonho with a smile, telling him to start talking now. “Monbebe,.. this is Y/N. MY girlfriend. I hope you support us, and love her as much as I do. She really is a nice person, and extremely shy.He said, turning his head towards you, and looking deeply into your eyes. Do you want to say anything? ME? “Uhm.. Yea.. Hello, Monbebe. I’m Y/N. Some of you already know me. I’m really happy that you’re nice already, and I hope you’ll be by our side forever. I just wanto to say that.. Wonho will always love you, and I love you guys too already… Yea.” The boys started laughing about your shyness, and you tried to hide your face behind Wonho.“ 

Yah!“ Kihyun said after a while. ”Let’s get the chairs, my feet start to hurt.“ He said, and with that everyone but Wonho left. ”We’ll stay with you, you don’t have to be alone monbebe.“ He seemed so calm about this whole situation. "Monbebe. There is also another thing I want to tell you. Well. Not just you but also you Y/N.” he started. You were wondering a bit, he should’ve told you earlier if it is important. But since it was your birthday in a couple of minutes, you just sat there and listened. 

Y/N, it’s your birthday in a couple of minutes.. And there are things I need to tell you. Y/N I love you. More than everything else. I will love you forever. You know me better than anyone. Maybe better than myself. You are so strong and so.. Incredible. You chose to stay with me even if I wasn’t there as a trainee, we weren’t able to meet for a long time. You were there when I was so stressed and kept snapping at you. You were there for me,.. when I myself wasn’t able to take care of myself.-” His voice cracked, and tears fell down his cheeks. Wonho took your hands and held them tight.

Y/N, I want to spent the rest of my life with you. I love you, I need you by my side. I can’t be without you. I don’t even know how I could breathe without you being here. All of our memories are so beautiful, I don’t think that I ever experienced something bad with you.. I can’t imagine growing up with anyone else,… nor do I want to. I know that my life won’t be complete without you.” What? You also started to cry now, tears silently fell down your cheeks. “I know I’m an Idol, and that’s not a thing you can do for a living, but I promise to work harder to make you happy.. Y/N will you marry me?" 

Right after those words left wonhos mouth, the other boys came back. Holding bouquets of roses in one of their hands, and a candle in the other.  And right when you looked back to wonho, he kneeled down, and opened the little box in his hand, just to show a shiny ring in it.
He waited for you to answer, and his smile faded a little, he was now scared to hear a "no." 

Yes of course I will, Pabo. I love you so much.“ You said, hugging him, and then crying into his shoulder.
"GUYS she said yes.”


Shion and Nezumi’s families are neighbors and close friends. They live in Lost Town, a district of a city called No. 6. The boys grow up like brothers and know each other since they were born. But the older they get, the more feelings they develop for each other…

Read it on AO3 or right here! :3

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Title: Lead us home

Author: Mod. Grunge

Pairing: aou!Pietro x Reader (no powers mentioned by the requester)

Prompt: ( x )

Trigger Warnings: Mild Panic Attack

Genres: Romance, Fluff

Words: 1, 386

Comments: Hello there, guys! I am so terribly sorry for making all of you wait for your requests to be filled. I am also sorry if this isn’t exactly accurate—I haven’t been to all that many weddings, but I think I have heard enough to be able to get the gist of it. I really do hope this is what you had in mind and that you enjoyed it, annonie! Please remember that you are wonderful and so precious to this world!

There’s something stuck in your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it doesn’t go down, making you gasp for air and walk in circles around the waiting room assigned to the bride in the little church Tony reserved for the day somewhere in the south of France. Perhaps if you weren’t so utterly nervous, you would have laughed about the cheesy setting and how sappy all of them are when it comes to romance and the like. But you’re more than nervous, close to shaking and the only thing you can actually think about is how the fuck will you manage to walk all the way to the altar without tripping over your unnecessary long dress that Natasha somehow managed to find a world-renowned designer to create it, last minute notice.

Not knowing what to do with your hands anymore—other than helplessly wiggling them in front of your face—you intertwine your fingers and place them in your lap as you sit on a spare chair that isn’t  home to decorations and clothes, squeezing the life out of them. You’re not getting cold feet; this isn’t a revelation of sorts that you were just hopelessly convincing yourself this is the path you would willingly choose for yourself. No, not at all. This is you realizing that there’s nothing else you’d rather be than here, surrounded by all the people who matter and who have shaped you into the person you are today and the thought is so terrifying, so goddamn frightening, you wonder if this is what happiness should really feel like.

You’re being ridiculous, you know that, but you just can’t really grasp the fact that everything from this point onwards, is going to change. You can’t get over the fact that no longer will you and Pietro be addressed as two different people, but as one, over the fact that you will share a home and everything will finally make sense and you will truly and honestly belong somewhere, a place only for the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you carefully slap your face with your hands as to not mess up the makeup Wanda and Natasha have spent excruciating hours perfecting it, and stand up, hands now on your hips with a determined look on your face—you’re going to put that veil over your head, grab that bouquet of flowers and rock the church, because this is your day, you deserve this and you’ll be damned if anything or anybody, including yourself, will ruin it.

And that’s exactly what you do. You walk to the human-sized mirror, inspect every single detail of your dress and posture, extend your arm to grab the veil that’s on the little table besides it and put it over your head and you don’t really think you have ever thought of your smile as beautiful until now. You’re glowing; your eyes have turned into a slightly lighter shade and it feels like your curls are being played with by the wind that’s practically nonexistent and you somehow wish you could immortalize this moment forever, the moment you finally became the protagonist of your own fairy-tale instead of the side-kick character who always gets the short ends of things.

Just as you are admiring yourself and straightening your back to get into the correct position to walk down the altar as gracefully as possible, somebody knocks on the door, pulling you out of your trance. For Pietro’s sake, you hope it isn’t his little impatient ass trying to get a peek of you. You may not have been to all that many weddings in your life, but you know about enough to be aware of how bad of an omen that is.

“I’m coming!”, you yell, pulling up the ends of your dress as to not step on them and rip it just before the big moment and stroll to the door, pulling it open with such force, you are amazed by how strong the hinges truly are.

To both yours and Pietro’s wellbeing, it’s not him, but Tony, holding up a bottle of what you presume to be an expensive as fuck brand of champagne that you wouldn’t be able to afford on your good days, sporting a shit eating grin and a crooked bowtie. The scene is humourous, but you can’t exactly manage to get yourself to externalize the laughter bubbling inside your chest, out of fear you might burst out crying; in theory you are more than prepared for this wedding to start, but in practice, you’ve got a long way to go before you get your body to agree to it.

Stepping aside, you let him enter the room, poking your head out to see if somebody else is there (there’s nobody) and close the door, making your way to the chair you were sitting in just moments ago, ready to jump out of the window.

“I thought you might need a little boost before walking out of that door, kiddo. God knows I needed one when I married Pepper.” Tony says, handing you the bottle before leaning against the table, arms crossed over his chest and observing you.

“Thank you”.

You throw your head back and take some big gulps, scrunching up your nose at the bitter taste, but continuing nevertheless, until you’re sure you have the right amount of alcohol in your system to ease the tense muscles.

After you place the bottle on the table, far enough from the edge to make sure you won’t break it if your legs decide to give under you in the last moment, the two of you sit in a comfortable and understanding silence a few more moments, before Tony pushes himself from the table and extends you his arm, a warm, gentle smile on his face encouraging you to take it and enjoy your moment.

You don’t think you will ever be able to come up with the right words to express the gratitude you feel towards all of the Avengers, you think as you slowly make your way to the altar and to your future husband, listening attentively to any sounds as Tony places your hand over your to reassure you. Wanda with her constant silent understanding and silent ways of showing you she’s there. Natasha with her priceless life lessons and nurturing nature that comes up any time she feels you were in need of some girl time. Bruce with his soft smiles and cheesy ways of showing you that everything will be alright. Clint with his fatherly ways of taking care of you and making sure you have everything you need. Tony with his constant support. Tony the one who became your father somewhere along the way and took it upon himself to guide you throughout your life in the absence of your parents. Steve with his old-fashioned ways and moral support and incredibly tasty pancakes that were never absent in the morning. Sam and Rhodey with their humour and friendship and all the other people who made it their life mission to include you in everything.

And Pietro.

Pietro with his disheveled hair, smile full of teeth and sarcastic words. Pietro the one with warm hugs and minty breath ghosting over the back of your neck. Pietro will all of his love reserved just for you. Pietro, the one full of hope and dreams and kindness. Pietro—the one whom you will be married to.

Somehow along the way, everything became a blur of flashing images, lighten up faces looking at you with adoration and pride, comforting words being whispered into your ears as you tried to pay attention to what the priest was saying, muffled sobs being concealed behind a handkerchief as Tony tried to suppress them and not attract attention to himself and all you can truly remember from beginning to end is how Pietro looked at you, how scared he was himself yet how unyielding he was in marrying you and you don’t think that your wedding day could have gone any way better than having him pour his entire soul into your body as the church erupted into claps.

Yes, you’re definitely where you belong and there’s not much left of the road until the both of you reach home.

'Alive With You'

summary: when you’re an actress, sometimes films can be a bit too realistic for your loved ones

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Back Then - Chapter 4

Here’s Chapter 4, which happens to be one of my favorites. :)


Chapter 1

Chapter 2 and 3

Chapter 4: The Confession

Breakfast was a much less awkward affair then she had expected. There were some family members and friends wandering around, but she was able to sit quietly by herself and eat. She heard the others whispering in the other rooms, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She wondered if Maks had told them to give her some peace and quiet. If so, she was grateful, because she needed it. Meryl finished eating and went to the sink to wash her dishes. 

“Absolutely not! Leave it!” Mama Chmerkovskiy, as Meryl came to refer to her in her head, came around the corner. She pulled the dishes out of Meryl’s hands. “You’re the guest!”

“I don’t mind. Really. I - …”


And that was the end of that. Meryl retreated to her room and saw that she still had half an hour before she could leave without being too suspiciously early to meet Maks. She picked up her phone and decided to call Charlie. 

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