tw everything you could think of

Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.
Friends can be emotionally abusive.

I spent a lot of time thinking that the only abuse you could experience was from significant others and family. I don’t know why, but I assumed people who call themselves your friends wouldn’t do such a thing. I was wrong. Friends can hurt you. Friends can make you second guess everything. Friends can make you hate yourself. Friends can give you PTSD. friends can be fucking emotionally abusive.

Every Other Weekend pt. 1

Prompt: After five years of marriage and two kids, you and Bucky decide you can’t make it work anymore.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,345

Warnings: language, divorce, angst, cheating

A/N: i got the idea of this from “Every Other Weekend” by Reba. (and “When You Love Someone” by James TW) flashbacks are in italics. also my first attempt at switching perspectives will come in a few parts. let me know what you think, and as always, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Tagged: @defendors @thorne93 @winterboobaer @marvelfandom-stuff @all-around-geek @cchrriissuuu @katexbishopx


Originally posted by stuckwithbuck

“Bucky, stop.” You screamed. The tears streamed down your face as you watched him throw pieces of clothing into a suitcase.

“This was a mistake.” His eyes never met yours.

“I’m sorry?” You could no longer hear yourself over the ringing in your ears.

“Us…everything.” With that, he zipped the suitcase closed and wedged himself between the wall and you, out of the room and out of the house.

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Here you go you terrible enablers. It’s not quite slash but it could be seen as the start of it XD

(I’ve been writing so much for the TW fandom lately that it was surprisingly awkward to get back into HP, but I think it smoothed out in the end.)

Summary: In which Bill dies and somehow gets stuffed into another him, in another universe.  He doesn’t mind so much when he realizes everything is just better in this new world, and, well, he was killed.  He deserves a nice next life without feeling guilty about dying, doesn’t he?  So he goes through school, works his way to master curse-breaker again – much faster this time, and he’s lauded as a genius in his field – because he loved what he did and still does.  Years later, he comes back from abroad and meets his youngest brother’s new runes-prodigy friend. He takes one look at one of Hadrian Evans’ ward schemes and just knows.

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These Hands Part 2- An Ivar Imagine

After your encounter in the forge with Ivar, you cannot stop thinking about him, or wanting to kiss him. But does he feel the same way? And why has he not come to see you since?

TW: none

People wanted a part 2, so here it is! I ended up rewriting it almost entirely, as the first version wasn’t up to par. Hopefully this one is!

Part one here:


You spent the whole next day thinking about Ivar.

You hoped you would be able to get him alone after dinner, to see if you could once again get a glimpse of that man hiding behind his cool mask. You were completely entranced. You wanted to know everything about him, to talk with him for hours about anything and everything. You wanted to experience his rumoured wit and intelligence for yourself. You wanted to feel your heartbeat race from his words, his presence. And, you desperately wanted that kiss you had been denied.

Not just one kiss, but many kisses. You wanted to taste and touch and lose yourself in that masculine warmth that radiated from his body. You wanted to know every inch of him. It made you tingly and warm all over just to think about it.

You were so distracted that Queen Aslaug sent you away from the wedding preparations early, claiming your head was too far in the clouds to be of any use to her. You had blushed at that, but she had just given you a knowing smile and shooed you out of the hall.

Dinner time came, and you entered the hall wringing your hands nervously. You had forgone your gloves, and were feeling a little self conscious. Not to mention you were scared of how Ivar would treat you. Would he speak to you more freely now? Would he smile at you, even touch you? Or would he act exactly as he always had?

You never found out, as he did not show up to dinner that night. Or the next night, or the night after that. You went to the forge each night, hoping that he might show up there instead, but he did not come there either. You were worried and a little hurt. What was going on? Did he regret what almost happened that one night, and was now doing everything possible to avoid you? You found that thought cut you like the edge of your own knife.

Finally, on the fourth night of Ivar not showing up to dinner, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You were about to try to find a way to corner one of his brothers, ask them what was going on, when a small slave girl approached you with a timid bow.

“Princess, Prince Ivar wishes to see you at his private cabin.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. His private living space? Your father, extremely prude for a Viking, would never approve. But you were itching to know what Ivar had been doing the last few days. Not to mention just wanting to see him again. To look at that handsome face, to have those stormy blue eyes slice through your flesh and pierce your very soul.

The slave girl was looking at you expectantly. You sighed. You would be in huge trouble if your father found out, but you had to see Ivar.

“Alright,” you nodded. “Take me to him.”


You entered Ivar’s private cabin not but a few minutes later. You wondered breifly why he did not stay in the Great Hall, but your question was answered once you heard the snarls of pain coming from behind the bed curtain. The sounds clawed at your heart. Was something wrong with his legs? Did he hurt himself? The slave girl motioned towards the bed. You quickly hurried over and pulled back the curtain without so much as a word.

Ivar was propped up in the big bed, chest bare, his blue eyes closed and brow pinched in pain. An elderly woman was packing something into a satchel. A healer, you presumed. She did not so much as look up at you.

“Was wondering when you would arrive, Princess,” she said, her voice reedy but strong. “I’ve just massaged his legs, they should be good for a few hours. Make sure he drinks his tea, every last drop. He’s getting better, pain should be gone in another few days. I’ll show you how to massage his legs when I come back later.” She looked up at you finally, her old green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Stubborn as they come, this one. You’ll have fun being his wife.” She winked at you, then turned to Ivar.

“Rest, princeling. And go easy on your poor woman.”

You blushed at being called “his”, your heart giving an erratic flutter in your chest. The healer bustled past you, slipping out into the cold night. You looked at Ivar, who had not opened his eyes. His chest rose and fell harshly as he breathed through the pain. You could not help but admire the definition of his muscles, the strength that lay beneath the miles of bare, golden skin. You wanted to touch it, to run your hand over those hard planes. Your blush deepened.

“Well, I know your hands are good for smithing, are they capable of making tea as well?” His eyes had opened, and his sharp voice jolted you out of your lustful thoughts.

“Ooh, of course,” you cursed your flaming cheeks as you hurried to put the kettle over the fire. You could feel his eyes raking over you as you did so, tracing over every curve with a sticky slowness that made your insides begin to feel warm.

“My legs hurt often, when the weather begins to cool like this. They get very painful,” he said crisply as you busied yourself with the kettle. “I cannot get out of bed for days sometimes, or sleep at night. I may even cry out with the pain. As my future wife, you should be aware of this.”

You can feel some tension bleed out of your shoulders. Well, that at least explained his absence over the last few days. But the poor man, to be burdened with all that pain….

“Thank you for telling me,” you replied, finishing with the kettle and turning around to face him. You fiddled with your hands, unsure of what to do next. You wanted to comfort him somehow, but you did not know where to start.

“I will need my legs massaged regularly. The healer cannot always come, so you will learn,” He set his jaw in a hard line as he spoke. You had the sudden urge to run a finger alone the strong edge. “I will need my herbs crushed, my tea made, the cabin kept warm and dry. All menial tasks like bathing and dressing will have to be done for me. The slaves split the tasks now, but they are needed for other things. So you will take over once we are married.”

He was looking at you with such a fierce expression, almost challenging you. His eyes searched your face carefully, like he was trying to find something he knew was there. You frowned, hurt coursing through you. Didn’t he say to you that he thought you were not a spoiled, useless princess? Surely that meant you were capable of looking after him when he was in this state. So why the challenge in his face?

“Of course,” you said, your voice flat. “I am to be your wife, I will do these tasks for you.”

You could see his whole body tense up, as if your words had somehow wrapped themselves around him and pulled tight. Something disappointed and painful came over his face, almost like a grim sort of acceptance.

And your breath left your lungs as you suddenly realized why you were really here. Ivar was not just telling you about your duties as his wife, or even questioning your abilities. He wanted to see your reaction to his legs, and all they entailed. He wanted to see if you would balk and run, cringe and bear it or……

Or accept it with an open heart. Accept him and all he was not out of duty, but out of whatever had sparked between you in the forge that night. Clearly, he had felt it too. The connection, the desire, the mutual letdown at the missed kiss. The disappointed look on his face said it all. He took your flat tone, your frown, as an adherence to duty. A nuisance you must deal with.

How wrong he was. You didn’t give two shits about caring for his legs, as long as you got to continue unraveling his complex and enthralling layers. As long as you got to feel what it was like to fall headlong into his embrace, to learn the taste of his mouth and the slide of his skin against yours. That night had awoken something in you, a flame in your heart you didn’t even realize was burning. And Ivar wasn’t the damper.

He was the spark. And he needed to know.

So you marched over to the bed, took his face in your battered hands, and kissed him.

Part 3 to come later this week- split one long thing into two smaller ones for easier reading. Happy Wednesday, sister wives!

Tag: @heathen-army

New Friends

Originally posted by hvproductions

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairings: Lahey! Reader x Scott McCall/ Theo Raeken

A/N: Just something I thought of; kind of lame but here it is.

‘Stay calm and breathe. He can’t detect anything if you just stay calm,’ you thought to yourself as you kept your eyes on the board in front of you.

Stiles had invited you and Scott over to help him with the newest problem of Beacon Hills. Apparently the only thing the three of you could do was stare at a board.

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anonymous asked:

(1) Hi there! CSA survivor and asexual here. I'm writing in response to one ask in which you said that asexuality can be the result of trauma. I completely disagree, and I think it's very dangerous to insinuate that any sexuality can be the result of trauma. It opens dangerous doors, almost validates people who say gay men “just didn't have a good father figure”, it implies that sexuality can be changed with therapy. It can't.

(2) If someone feels something akin to asexuality but they’re 100% sure it’s because of trauma, then it’s not asexuality, it’s PTSD and it deserves to be addressed with a therapist. I myself refused to identify as asexual for the longest time because of my childhood trauma. I was like “I just feel this way because I’ve been traumatized, it’ll pass if I try hard enough”. But it didn’t pass. Because I’m asexual. And I stayed asexual even after working out my trauma with my therapist.

I’m posting this because I think varied discussion is important. I also think can is also important and valid. If someone used an I statement that said “I’m [blank] because this happened to me” I’d be like okay. You know you better than me. Like in your case here, I think more often than not these things are stacked not cause and effect like you are saying.

For example my abuse was caused by me being ace. Not the reverse. The abusers did not even know I was ace. But I feel, and I think it’s my right to say that. As it is absolutely yours to say you were ace the whole time too.

I’ve had someone come up to me and was like I’m 90% sure my asexuality is caused by my medication so I don’t want to speak for the community but I doesn’t even feel like I am allowed to be a part of the community. And I told them if this community reflects your feelings, if it gives you peace, and you use I statements when talking about things that are university shares I see no harm.

If someone was in therapy right now and they said I think my trauma caused asexuality. I’d reply so what if it did, you don’t need to fix that. It’s a valid way to exist with or without cause. Work on getting help for the trauma and if the label stays great. You are happier now. If the label vanishes. So what? You at happier now.

I absolutely understand your point however. At the core I think it comes down to a philosophy. I dunno if you heard the story about a lady with OCD who could not work because she always felt like her hair dryer was left on and would start a fire. She tried everything fix this behavior. After years someone suggested bring the hair dryer with you, so when you have that compulsion you can glance over and remind yourself “it’s right there, everything is safe.” 

I think the collective we should worry less on fixing and focus more on how can I safely find peace now. How can I get to work even if I have a hair dryer in my purse?

Because the devil’s around me so much
That you would think I got a death wish,
Yeah, and the voices in my head get louder,
Watchin’ my career disappear like powder, poof!
Wish I could rewind those hours and get my life back.
—  Machine Gun Kelly hit me right in the soul.

((Because I honestly don’t think he meant it.))

((But some TordMatt tonight, still taking shipping requests guys. Only gotten one so far, although I guess even if no one asks I’ll keep making them. As for how I feel about this ship, it’s not bad. Honestly I think Tord was sorry about everything in the end, and before hand he really did seem to genuinely be happy to be around Matt and Edd. I think it could work with proper development.))

((Casually tags @stepfxrd, some TordMatt for you!))

fried rice for hungry people

I make this when I need something fairly speedy and filling. It’s nice cause it uses things that are easy to keep around the kitchen + leftovers.

you will need:

  • eggs
  • leftover rice
  • oil (I use sesame oil, but other types work too)
  • teriyaki sauce
  • salt
  • pepper
  • some fast-cooking veggies* or tofu or cooked meat or basically anything that you think would taste good. also a good way to use up extra leftover food in the fridge.

Start by heating up your pan a bit. Once it’s warm, add a bit of the oil, enough to keep things from sticking to the pan. Throw in about a serving’s worth of rice (whatever that is for you) and a handful of the veggies etc. Mix them together a little then add an egg, or two if you’re really hungry. Shove it all around in the pan for a minute or two. Add teriyaki sauce, salt, and pepper as you want. Generally I think the more teriyaki the better. Cook it till it looks done, being careful not to let it burn. You can basically make as much as you want by just adding more of everything, and it makes nice leftovers too.

*Thawed frozen veg works well in winter. In the summer, you could use peas or corn or mushrooms or bean sprouts.

anonymous asked:

I am a girl and almost to the age of going to the gynecologist. Is it important that my doc know I am ace? Are there certain things that I won't need to do if I am not sexually active?

I wouldn’t say it’s important to tell them you are ace with the exception if you are sex repulsed. But then I’d tell them I’d very uncomfortable with this and I need you to talk me though everything you do. I don’t think there is anything they skip if you aren’t sexually active. But telling them you aren’t is important because they need that to consider pregnancy and/or STDs. TLDR: If you are sex repulsed and the doctor could trigger a panic attack try to think what you need on that front. Tell ‘them you aren’t sexual active so further testing isn’t needed.

The Batboys reacting to Anorexia/Self harm

Anon asked : “ okay okay okay so! ive just read like so much of your writing and i am in LOOOVE!! SO, if youre not too busy i was wondering (ed+sh tw!) IF you could write some maybe headcannons/imagines of how the batboys (dick, jay, dami, and timmy) would react to finding out their s/o has anorexia or self harms? thank you !! :++))) sorry for it being such a dark request i jusy really like angst and the idea of a redfaced angry jason thinking WHY you didnt tell him sooner and doing everything he can to help !“

(A/N): Ok this took me sometime because i actually wanted to write more than just their reactions, also how they found out and stuff like that. 

I started with anorexia (Dick) and the other boys react to self harm because I feel like it’s easier to make something out of it bc anorexia is more noticeable. I also did it to avoid repetitions (even tho there are some) I did both headcanons and imagines and since you talked about Jason, I did something longer for him ;) Hope you like it, and if not, let me know so that I can re-write/correct it for you!

Warnings: Anorexia, self harm, swearing



  • He always knew you were too skinny for your height and age but you were constantly assuring him you were ok
  • “(Y/N) are you sure you’re ok? You don’t look ok.”
  • “Dick how many times do I have to tell you? I’m fine”
  • “But you barely ate today! You are loosing too much weight-“
  • “I went to the doctor yesterday, he said I was fine, forget it. Please?”
  • He was constantly trying to force you to eat more
  • “I told Alfred to make soup”
  • “I don’t like soup.”
  • “You need to eat!”
  • (You end up not eating)
  • One day, you have a break down and have to be rushed to the hospital
  • He gets really worried and blames himself for it because he could’ve done something earlier
  • He is not surprised when the doctor tells him it’s anorexia and that your organism didn’t have enough strenght , that you needed to feed yourself
  • After that he always makes sure you eat enough, creates an exercising routine for you to do together and never stops supporting you


  • He finds out about your cuts when he sees blood on the sleeves of your shirt
  • “(Y/N) what is this?”
  • “N-nothing” you grabbed the shirt hidding it “I..I fell”
  • “What? Are you okay?” he tries to grab your arm but you harshly pull it away
  • He is hurt by your action because he knows you’re lying
  • “..Do-do you cut.. yourself?”
  • You turn around facing the wall and start crying
  • His heart breaks at that moment when he realises how much you were holding inside
  • He rarely sees you crying but when he does, he knows it must be something very serious (that only makes him feel worst. Poor smol bean Drake)
  • Tim hugs you feeling guilty for never noticing
  • Some tears start to form on his eyes and rolling down his cheeks
  • He is very worried because he has no idea why you would ever have a reason to do it
  • You end up telling him and he helps you through it so that you never have to hurt yourself again


  • Damian is used to death, blood, suffering and pain since he was raised by the League of Assassins but only when he was around. When HE was the cause to all of that.
  • He saw you cutting yourself and freaked out
  • Besides never seeing someone hurt themselves like that, he was more shocked that it was you.
  • He waits till you pull the blade from your skin so that he doesn’t scare you enough to make you cut deeper than expected by accident
  • “Beloved” his voice was low and sad “What are you doing”
  • You turn around shocked: How did he get there?! You were sure you locked the door
  • [It’s Damian, it doesn’t matter if you lock the door or if you put an elephant in front of it, he will still manage to open it without making a sound]
  • “I-I” you couldn’t find an answer
  • You dropped the blade on your desk and looked at it, struggling to keep your tears in your eyes
  • He lowered his body next to you and held your arm pulling it closer to him.
  • He looked at your wrist, more scared than he has ever been.
  • He kissed it.
  • His lips were covered in blood, but he didn’t care.
  • You looked at him not expecting that and tears started to fall on the ground.
  • He grabbed bandages and covered your cuts, without saying a word.
  • “Why?” he broke the silence
  • You told him everything that had been bothering you for the last years and he felt so angry for never being able to get the hints you gave him
  • He hugged you like it was the last time he would see you
  • He made a promisse that moment: to never missunderstand your actions or words again and to always be there for you.


You had been strange for the past months, Jason noticed it. You never got naked in front of him again, you were always wearing long sleeve shirts even if it the weather was hot as fuck, and you seemed quieter at times. He had asked you tons of times about it, but you always laughed and pushed the subject away. He even asked his brothers if anything was wrong but they didn’t seem to notice anything serious.

One night he comes back from patrol earlier, so you were not expecting him. He only came back sooner if something had went wrong, he probably was pissed and very moody.

You were laying in your bed wearing a tank top. It was mid-summer so you had been DYING to wear something fresher than long sleeve tops and jackets. You looked down at your wrists and felt disgusted of yourself. “Why do I even do this” you ask yourself. In that moment you hear a door slam shut.

“Oh shit” you thought knowing it was Jason.

You tried to reach the shirt at the end of the bed but it was too late. Jason entered the room looking agitated. You tried to hide your arms. He stopped looking at them.

“What the fuck is that”

His eyes widened and he rushed to look at them closer.


He knew it! He knew something was wrong and nobody agreed with him. He was feeling so angry. Angry at the others for saying it was ‘nothing’ and that he probably was just ‘over reacting’; angry at you for never telling him, from hiding it from him and angry at himself for never insisting that something was out of place.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he almost screamed.

You didn’t answer. You really didn’t have an exact answer.

“Tell me!” he said louder, his face getting red. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me (Y/N)?! I could’ve helped you, I.. You could’ve died!” he threw his Red Hood helmet at the ground frustated.

You held your knees next to your chest scared when the helmet hit the ground. You were feeling more guilty than ever.

He noticed he was scarying you and immediately regreted it. He sit next to you calmy and took a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry.. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. It’s just.. I-I was not expecting it and you could’ve, indeed, told me earlier.”

You sobbed quietly trying to understand why you didn’t tell him. Why you started it first of all.

“Why” he asked.

“It helps. It helps with the pain”

“What pain” he was now really worried

You didn’t say a thing.

“Babe” he whispered making you look at him. “There’s better ways of dealing with pain” he cleaned your tears softly. “You know.. Before Bruce took me in, I suffered a lot. Being alone in the streets, it’s not easy. I-I was a kid. I didn’t know what I was doing with my life and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You looked at him calming your sobs and held his hand.

“I’ve done that myself” he looked at your arms “It’s like a dark and deep whole. It’s easy to fall in it, but getting out it’s the hard part. It’s not good. It doesn’t help with anything really.” He caressed your cuts with his free hand.

You felt your eyes getting watery just like Jason’s. You hugged him tightly. You were relieved to know that your boyfriend knew what it was like, that he wasn’t going to judge you. He felt the same way.

The fact that you both shared that hard and hurtful experience, only made it easier for Jason to help you getting out of the whole you had gotten yourself into.

Mine (requested)

The entire pack had been on high alert for the past week or so, seeing as word that Deucalion and some of his pack were back in town. There were frequent pack meetings that took place in Derek’s loft, where strategies and possibilities of attacks were discussed and planned out. You would always stay behind after everyone left and spend the night with Derek. It was nothing too serious, of course. You weren’t going to get too emotionally invested with your alpha, because that could only cause trouble in the future. Derek knew that too, so the two of you kept it simple, casual. Friends with benefits seemed to be an appropriate term for your situation.

At some point in time, the two packs had agreed to meet on neutral ground and carry on a civil conversation. Derek had no idea what there was to talk about, as they had settled their differences long ago, or at least agreed to ignore them. Agreeing to disagree was a favorable tactic in Derek’s book, so naturally, this idea of a meetup made him extremely nervous. Today was the day it would happen, and you and the rest of the pack waited in a large clearing, putting on a front of ease. However, each one of you were ready to defend yourselves at any time. Eventually, you saw Deucalion and three members of his pack sauntering casually towards you, and you shifted from one foot to the other in anticipation.

“Hello, boys,” Deucalion greeted, as if he were running into old friends at a bar. “And girl,” his eyes fell onto you, and you had to suppress the shiver that wanted to run down your spine. There was something about the way he looked at you, like you were a plate of steak he was ready to devour.

“Deucalion,” Derek greeted, his voice somewhat cold.

“Nice to see you all again.” Deucalion raised his arms to his sides in a large sweeping gesture.

Derek rolled his eyes, completely over his theatric ways. “Get on with it, whatever you want, just tell us. We don’t have all day.”

Deucalion sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Well then, I won’t beat around the bush any longer if that’s what you wish.” He took another step forward, pausing as he once again directed his gaze towards you. You took an involuntary step backwards. “What I want… is her.”

You stood frozen in disbelief, not understanding what was happening. The pack had mixed reactions, including growling, shifting into protective stances, and immediately saying no. Derek scowled at him. “What the hell are you talking about, you want her?”

Deucalion chuckled softly, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue under his breath. “Now, now, no need to get so defensive.” He meandered forward, heading for you. You stayed still, not knowing how to react. You couldn’t read him. “Let me explain.”

He reached out and surprisingly softly pushed away some of your hair from your neck, exposing the skin. “You see, I’ve had my eye on you since I first met you.” You swallowed hard, your eyes following his hand’s movement as it lingered by your neck. “Because I couldn’t help but notice… just how beautiful you were, how graceful and protective you were over your pack. Such dedication and loyalty should be rewarded.”

He walked in a slow circle around you, letting his fingers brush across your neck and through your hair. You uncontrollably shivered, a cold shock travelling down your entire body at his touch.

“And I think that you’d make an excellent addition to not only my pack,” Deucalion continued, moving extremely close to you. “But that you would look excellent by my side, at all times.”

Your breathing hitched at his proximity, and you took a steadying breath. You still weren’t understand exactly what he wanted, but you had a feeling he’d explain whether you wanted to hear it or not. The rest of the pack watched in amazement and confused anxiety, ready to spring at any sign of danger.

“As in,” Deucalion paused, allowing his lips to brush across your earlobe. A small gasp left your lips, and your eyes squeezed shut. “I want you to be mine. Mine and mine alone.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at what he had said, and you watched him walk back to his pack members cockily. He turned back around and flashed an innocent smile. “I’ll give you three days to decide. I’ll come back for your answer. Choose wisely.”

With that, he turned away and made his way back across the clearing, disappearing into the trees at the edge. You continued to stand there in disbelief, still trying to process everything that had just happened. Derek moved to stand in front of you, searching your eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling dazed. “I’m okay…”

But the only thing you could think about was your answer, what you were going to say when he came back.


requested by anon

You were taken to the hospital immediately. You were bitten by a werewolf but you were rejecting the bite. When Derek took you to the hospital he never left you. Young Hale sat by your side always holding your hand, ignoring everything around him. All he could think about was your live. But you couldn’t make it. Your strong heart stopped. Derek looked at you with tears in his blue eyes. He realised that he will never hear your heartbeat again.

Alternative Sacrifice

Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Hinted Crush- Stiles x Reader
Warning: MAJOR SPOILERS From Season 3B, Character Death, Slight Mention of Blood
Writer: The wonderful levallan
Summary/Request: Based off of (X): You die to save Allison…
Notes: So I get a message telling me someones written a story based off my imagine and I was THRILLED! So I asked, got permission to post it here and bob’s your uncle. So have another version of Y/N sacrificing themselves in Allison’s place…

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anonymous asked:

Anyway you could do more of the walking in on s/o naked headcanonns but with Jonathan Speedwagon and Giorno (I can't remember if you did Gio or not )

Walking in on their crush naked nsfw Jonathan, Speedwagon, and Giorno:
Tw Masturbation, mentions of self loathing.


-He is mortified, at himself. He prides himself on being a gentleman this is not what a gentleman would do!

-Slams the door shut yelling his apologies through it.

-Can’t loom at you for at least a week even after a formal apology.

-Does everything in his power not to think of it amd gets made at himself everytime his mind slips.

-Guilt Boners and masturbation ending in self loathing. As much as he likes you he shouldn’t do these thing when he didn’t deserve it.


-For once he is silent. He’s trying to talk judging from the way his mouth is moving.

-Leaves as soon as you throw things or point the situation out.

-Already planning his apology. He may have started in Ogre street but he was still a good guy.

-Doesn’t stop him from using the image later.

-Th image of those thighs of your’s around his cock is what fuels his night times the most.

- Just imaginings how soft they are. As they stroke him. Of course he is imagining pleasing you at the same time. Preping you preparing for the main even.

-Has to change his sheets a lot more often.


-There is a 50/50 change it isn’t completely an accident as much as it is he may not have had a choice. (Evacuation, emergency mission, the like)

-Depending on the situation he may not notice. But if it’s a calmer time and he notices well we’ll focus on that.

-Unlike all the others he is more confident. Takes in the view as he apologizes and calmly walks out.

-He is not calm on the inside oh no. He is a passionate man and you are the one who holds his attention.

-Has no guilt as he plays with him self later. He focuses on all his body giving himself a ‘life shot’ to make it more intense. After all he had real insperation why not enjoy it more?

-Is much more vocal this way but he is still quiet, your name is breathy mixed into his Italian swears and praise. Even though you aren’t really there.

anonymous asked:

im so sorry for sending you this but sometimes i have these thoughts that someone in my family did something to me. i think someone did something sexual with me and i dont know i don't know why i think this it seems impossible he would never do something like that so why do i think that?? im just making it up right? he couldn't have done that im the fucked up one im the one who wants to ruin everything im sorry im so sorry

Hey, it’s okay. I wish I could help you remember if something happened or not, but because trauma can cause repressed memories, it’s always difficult.

But you’re not messed up for wondering if something happened, or thinking that something did. You’re allowed to look out for your own safety, and you have a right to know what happened to you, if anything did.



          [ requested by anon ]

Stiles had been such a dork with Isaac since he knew that the big werewolf was dating his younger sister since some weeks ago; everybody knew how independent was Stiles but they also knew how protective he was over you, after all he only had one sister.

Actually it wasn’t the fact that you were dating Isaac what made him a dork - well it was too - , what made him mad was the thing that you hadn’t told him when he always told you everything that happened to him.

But all of it had got worse when you disappear and the only thing that Stiles could think about was that Isaac was the one who had the fault, and he didn’t know what he would do the next time that he would see him; but those ideas disappeared the moment when he saw you in Isaac’s arms when he found and save you, because he knew perfectly that with Isaac you would be safe and sound.

anonymous asked:

fairy lights, 1975, plants, oil paints, and lightning


fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

oh god this is impossible to decide. I think like. I just have this feeling of like - everything i know and find out happens at exactly the most opportune, right moments so if i had a crystal ball to give me any answer i’d be like?? is this cheating the organic course of fate or is this part of fate’s ultimate plan??? tf??? i think in the end i’d ask something so vague so that the answer i’d get could like; still be doused in suspense and leave me with something to wonder

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

it was two days ago, i postponed a lesson i had and curled up in bed while it rained, and it was the most peaceful i’d felt in years, the most cosy - though i’d like to say that it’s been a very happy few weeks!!! which is a very good thing
honourary mention: last week i went to a friend’s house and we watched a movie and it was so homey and lovely and i m just warm

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them

oH DAMN????????????????? honestly wtf i don’t know i have so many friends perfect for this?? im resisting the urge to say mac bc honestly that’s who i wanna stargaze with the most buT adfaldfjkfklad to give different answers I think in the end i’d go with either miriam or jari - miriam and i have had incredibly intimate and wonderful conversations under the stars and jari and i basically work like two pieces of a vibrant unit, understanding and completing each other like our brains were meant to be one u kno??? plus their heart belongs among the stars, i think it’d be a religious experience to watch what thoughts come to them 

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

i’m literally so indecisive can someone else title it for me pls and while ur at it write it for me too?? xoxo ;)))

probably what the fuck, genie or 17 Years Of Bad Decisions and Surprisingly Beneficial Repercussions

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

i do plenty of embarrassing things sober too but as for “worse”, i don’t think i can categorise them but definitely one of the worst would be getting high on the roof of a church 30 mins before my dad would come to pick us up with his car, and im not sure this counts bc this wasn’t An Awful Act Borne From Non-Sobriety but rather,,, just a bad decision in general but ;; that’s my brand

(asks from this post)

Too many friends

A/N: Urgh, I finally got this thing finished. It’s not even well written, or proof-read, but I couldn’t look at it unfinished on my Drive any longer.

PS: The song is Too Many Friends by Placebo

Summary: At Vidcon, on the main stage, Dan begrudingly agrees to play a song on the piano, but he plays a song that makes him so emotional he runs off stage. Phil follows and comforts him.

Word count: 1298

Genre: angst, fluff, platonic Phan 

Tw: mention of sad days ?!?


“Are you ready?” Dan asks. Phil looks at him, smiling nervously.

“I think. It’s only a live stage thing, right ? We’ve done it before.” Dan can hear the nervousness in his voice. “Don’t worry Phil, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Phil can’t help but think “famous last words”.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I hope this is okay to ask(I'm going through things in life, not feeling like I'm receiving love from my parents), but- Ardyn comforting S/O from having a nightmare about her memory of her parents based on Florence + Machine's "Stand by Me", please?

TW: verbal abuse//Also, minor FFXV spoilers//
I’m so sorry things are tough for you right now, anon. I hope you feel better after reading this, and (I never thought I’d say this) take some advice from our dear Ardyn in this! ~Mod Ace
You shoot up, wide awake and a scream on your lips. Your eyes refuse to focus in the darkness. The only sensations are remnants from the fresh hell you just awoke from. Your heart still throbs painfully from the bitter words they spoke to you. Physical pain from their words turn the hand on your shoulder from a soft caress to a burning scorch. You flinch, but the hand remains.

“Come now, dear. Whatever could have caused you such trouble?” Ardyn’s voice provides clarity. He was never in your nightmares. He never knew your parents. He was the present. He was your current reality and you needed to be reminded of that, so thank the gods he was here.

“A nightmare,” you manage to breathe out, still shaking. “Of my parents.” The second you say it, you cringe. What do you know of nightmares compared to him? He must think you’re pathetic now, getting so worked up over a memory of your parents.

But he doesn’t scoff or tut or do anything you expected him to do. Instead, the hand on your shoulder wraps around to your other shoulder, and he pulls you to his side. Ardyn’s warmth compared to the chill of your nightmare is godsent, and you don’t complain when he lays back down on the bed with you. You feel him idly play with your hair; it’s his favorite pastime and the most effective way to calm you down.

After quite some time, he finally murmurs, “I’ve seen my share of nightmares over the years,” he breathes a laugh, “So I’m free to say that nightmares come in all forms. Believe me, I would never accost you for anything.”

Hearing just that sent relief flooding through you, but he continued, “And, as with everything, nightmares are only temporary. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life goes on. You’ll move on in due time. I’ll be here for it when you do.“

Ardyn’s tone suddenly shifted, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Besides, love, there are plenty of better things to have dreams about. I can think of a few things just off the top of my head.”