writing fanfiction on my mind

Brave of Heart and Calm of Mind (Chapter 3 of 3, + Epilogue)

Pairing: Logicality

Prompt: “I don’t want you… I need you.”

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort with a Happy Ending (now)

Words: 3927

Rating: T

Triggers: No major ones, but self-doubt/self-hatred and relationship conversations if those kinds of things upset you.

Read on AO3 here

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Summary:

‘“You have always been, well, incredibly accepting, and patient, and I have no doubt that you would try to make my inadequacies work for you in every capacity, but that is the trouble, my dear.”

The word ‘dear’ stirs something nostalgic and sweet inside Patton. He lifts Logan’s hand to his mouth and kisses it again, just because he can.

“What are you afraid of?” he murmurs against them.

“Hurting you.”

Patton looks up, wondering. Logan’s eyes are closed.’

A/N:

It’s here at last, the happy ending. Sorry for the small delay, I only just got done with my midterms and had to put the editing of this chapter on hold. Then I realised the chapter was kind of trash so I had to rewrite about half of it, but anyway - here you go. Tag list and more at the end, thanks so much for a great response, and I hope you enjoy!

Keep reading

Pretty Angel


A/N: Enjoy this quick little piece I wrote as an apology for not being active for about a week! So sorry!! School and work and redoing my room, ahhh have been a little hectic and time-consuming, but I’m going to try and write ficlets more often now!!! ALSO, sorry to the anon who requested the smut Hotch piece a while ago, I’ll try and get on that soon and thank you for requesting it!


“Oh, shit,” Spencer whispered quietly as he bumped into the large television stand in the bedroom you both shared. He cursed once more to himself as he stood completely still for a moment, waiting to see if the noise had woken you. After two minutes of no movement coming from you, he let out a shaky breath as he continued to change into pajamas.

It was 12:30 am and Spencer had just gotten back from a particularly gruesome case with the team. The images he had seen were still fresh in his eyes so he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, and that was fine with him. All he wanted to do was cuddle you anyways. What better way to try and unwind from a horrible case?

Spencer wanted to hold you, breathe you in, and revel in the safety that you always emitted. But if he woke you up in the process of doing that? You’d have his ass, and not in the way he enjoyed.

Luckily enough, he managed to finish his change of wardrobe relatively quickly and quietly. Now all he had to do was get in bed without waking you, which would be a lot harder, but Spencer loved a challenge.

As he tried maneuvering his way into the covers, he accidentally jostled you, but all you did was make a soft noise as you moved further away. Thank god, he thought. Spencer stopped moving for a second as he glanced at you, noting how peaceful you looked while sleeping. He had missed you. In fact, you were the one thing he always missed while he was away for work. More often than not lately, he had been thinking of possible ways to somehow stay behind with Penelope while the rest of the team flew to wherever in the world trying to catch another monster. He wanted to give this relationship more stability before taking it to the next level.

But that’s a conversation for another day. For now? Spencer just wanted to hold you, and he’d be damned if he didn’t succeed.

Finally, after minutes of struggling to move without waking you, his had done it. He was laying right next to you, not cuddling you like he had originally wanted, but he did have his hand on your hip as he ran circles into the skin softly. Spencer felt a little more at peace now as he laid next to you, a little more content.

Before he knew it though, you were waking up. You were still groggy from sleep, but your eyes were open as you turned to face him better. Spencer raised an eyebrow in question at you as you were staying silent while assessing him. “You are so preeettttyyyyy. So, so pretty,” you crooned as you patted his face roughly.

He bit back a laugh before answering, “Why, thank you, Y/N. You are also so, so pretty.”

As you continued patting his cheek, more softly now, you began asking him questions. “Do you think dogs know how pretty they are? I hope they do. It’d be a shame if they didn’t.”

Spencer pretended to ponder what you had said, but before he could answer, you moved your hand from his cheek to cover his mouth, “Shhh, pretty angel, shhhh. It’s sleep time now.” After you removed your hand from your boyfriend’s mouth, you turned around in bed so he was facing your back and promptly fell back asleep.

Spencer knew you wouldn’t remember this in the morning, but he would and he couldn’t wait to tell you about it. This wasn’t a new thing for you to do. It happened loads of times, where you would randomly wake up and have a conversation with Spencer before knocking out and forgetting it ever happened. He loved it.

He moved closer to you, laying an arm around you before kissing your shoulder briefly. “I love you,” he whispered to your sleeping form. He was grateful to have you in his life, especially during times like these where you could distract him from the dark images for a moment by making him laugh. Hopefully, he thought, you could do this for the rest of your lives together.


Tagging 💖: @gubl-oser @dearspencerreid @curlyreid @donuts1324

Stockholm Syndrome

Originally posted by grabiajulia

The one where Y/N is an ordinary girl who just auditioned for fun, when she was actually chosen out of a group of models to be the love interest in One Direction’s music video for ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ by Harry Styles himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The building that held the audition was frightening.

 It was freezing and there were a number of girls there that looked like super models, with they’re long, smooth legs and high heels, along with short skirts, and don’t forget the crop tops that revealed their tanned stomach’s.

God, don’t they ever have a candy bar?

Y/N thought while sitting across from one of them. The model was looking down at her phone with her gelled, pink finger nails. Her make up was on point and her high light was so bright, it could blind a person with 20/20 vision, Y/N presumed.

Y/N didn’t look like these girls at all. No, she wasn’t a model, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t happy with her appearance. She was wearing a black tank top along with some ripped white skinny jeans, that stopped just before her ankle. Her shoes were her common ‘go to’ black flats that were worn out, yes, but she couldn’t give them up.

Her hair was an ombre color, with brown and blonde mixed in, and it was in her favorite style, down, falling over her shoulders, long enough to cover the middle of her breasts.

The whole reason as to why Y/N even wanted to audition for this was not because of her love for the band, no, this is what Y/N wanted to do, she wanted to act.

It had been a dream of her’s since she was little. She would sit at home for hours at a time in front of her television, watching as many movies as she could. Then she would reenact them for hours and have a blast.

So when she heard that One Direction was holding auditions for one of her favorite songs, she figured this was her shot.

“Y/N?” Y/N’s head shot up quickly and looked toward the direction of the voice. It was a woman with blonde hair and a clear complexion. She was smiling with a clipboard in her hand and the other holding the door open that closed automatically if you let go of it.

“Yeah!” Y/N said quick, before bending down to grab her belongings that were sitting by her feet. “Right this way.” the blonde haired woman said as Y/N approached closer to her, walking through the doorway and into the bright, white room that held huge long mirrors hanging horizontally on the wall to her right.

 “So the boys are going to see what you can do, okay?” “Wait, what?” Y/N’s eyes grew wide.

What the fuck? Y/N thought to herself while the lady was re-explaining herself to her. Y/N didn’t know the boys would be here! She figured it would be someone from their management team holding the auditions.

Now she was REALLY nervous.

She tried to hold herself together as the lady was still explaining everything to her. She felt as if the breakfast sandwich she had earlier this morning was going to soon meet her again, face to face, if she didn’t get out of this audition quick.

“They’re going to talk to you, ask you your name, get to know you a little bit and then play the song, to see how you react to it.” this lady was speaking very sweetly and calmly, but Y/N was surely going to throw up, either that or faint.

“Go right ahead.” were her last words to her, before Y/N was mindlessly walking further into the wide room. Her body froze once she first got sight of all the boys sitting at a folded up table, just a few feet away from the mirrors that were on the wall.

They looked even better in person. Y/N stared with slightly widened eyes as she witnessed them in action. Niall was laughing while pinching Liam’s arm, Liam was smiling and telling him to stop, while Zayn was laughing about something that Louis had told him softly and Harry- Harry was staring at Y/N.

He seemed to be the only one who noticed she was in the room with them. She smiled at him, Harry was always her favorite, she loved all the boys, of course, but she always found herself staring at Harry the most, just like he was staring at her now.

He had a brown hat on top of his head, it looked like the same one from the album cover of four, and a black button-up shirt that was exposing his tattooed swallows that were on his collar bone. His long, curly hair just barely above his shoulders, he looked breath-taking.

“Hello.” he spoke out and shortly after, the rest of the boys stopped goofing off and looked in Y/N’s direction. Her heart was beating so fast, she was sure at least one of the boys could hear it. “Hi.” Y/N let out softly, with her hands behind her back, fingers intertwined, she didn’t know exactly what to do with them.

“Hey love, wha’s yo’ name?” Louis called out to her as she smiled, “Y/N,” she saw as some of the boy’s eyebrows raised in an impressed way, as if though they weren’t expecting her name to be that. Then there was Harry, who was smiling widely at her before saying the word, “beautiful.”

Now she was sure her heart could be heard. Her cheeks were slightly turning pink from Harry’s comment about the name her father gave her. With her bottom lip tucked underneath her teeth, she stared back at the boys and mouthed Harry thank you, before Niall opened his open and began speaking.

“Where’r yah from, Y/N?” they were all quiet now, unlike earlier, before they realized she was in the same room as them, all eyes on her. She didn’t know who’s face to look at, so she just chose to look at each of them a little as she spoke.

“Here. Born and raised.” They all nodded and gave small remarks on it before Harry spoke up again, “how old are yah?” “twenty-one.” they all gave shocked looks, she didn’t look it, but maybe that was because she just turned twenty-one a week ago.

“Wow, you don’t look it,” Harry remarked with wide eyes still on her, while the others spoke in agreement toward him, “no?” Y/N teased with a scrunched nose, narrowed eyebrows and a shake of her head, something Harry found adorable.

“Nah.” he was staring dreamily at her now, this girl was the only one in this audition to actually catch his eye. Harry was honestly tired of seeing models in the videos, he wanted a normal girl who was humble and most relatable toward their fans. 

He had seen on Twitter a few months ago, fans replying to their past video that had a super model in it. They were saying things like, “I could never look like her.” or “she’s so skinny, I need to lose weight now.” it was really upsetting Harry to see the fans think that the boys were actually into girls like that.

“Okay, show us wha yah got.” Harry had heard Zayn say, causing him to break out of his daze. “Okay,” Y/N said nervously, as Liam was reaching for the boom box before Harry spoke up, “No.” Everyone froze and looked at him, they looked as if Harry had three heads, except Niall, he was smiling like an idiot in his direction.

“Wha?” Louis asked Harry as he was staring at Y/N, who looked just as confused as the boys. “I- I said no. I like her, she’s hired.” he spoke in his deep, raspy British voice while staring at Y/N with a smile curved on his lips. She was smiling widely now, her eyes widening too, and Harry couldn’t help but think that he truly made the right choice with her as the love interest. He would barely have to act.

“H- Hold on, Y/N.” Zayn spoke before they all got up and pushed Harry into a spare room that looked like a closet. Once the door shut behind Niall, who was the last person to follow, they all stared at Harry with crossed arms.

“Wha are ya doin, lad?” Louis asked him sternly, “we haven’t even seen her dance.” “well, maybe she won’t have to!” Harry spoke up in a frustrated voice, “Hell! We can’t even dance!” they all looked at Harry and then slowly nodded in agreement, remembering horrible flashbacks from the X-Factor.

“Don’t ya see? She perfect fo’ this.” Harry was looking at all of them now as they were all listening closely to what he had to say. “The song is about a fan kidnapping us and us falling in love with her, she looks very similar, if not older, to our fans.” they were looking at Harry and agreeing as he spoke more.

“If we put a damn super model in the video, it would just look off pudding, you have to admit.” they all nodded in agreement to his words, “I agree,” Niall stated, stepping closer toward Harry, “I say we go with her.” Liam nodded, “Yah, no mo’ auditions.” “She’s the one.” Zayn said and Harry couldn’t agree more.

Once they all stepped out of the spare room, Y/N had been waiting for about five minutes, still standing in the same spot she started at, just feet away from the folded table that they all re-sat down at. “Alrigh’,” Louis spoke before any of the other boys did, Y/N’s heart was beating out of her chest, did she get this or not?

What could they possibly have talked about for such a short amount of time? She was so nervous, they probably were going to drop her and go with one of the super models that one of the boys reminded Harry of, “we’ve all come to the conclusion that we really like yah,” Y/N’s eyes were widening, along with her lips at this point, “and we would be honored if ya would work with us in this video.”

A rush of happiness hit Y/N in the face like a semi, “yes, yes- yes!” she squealed as they all clapped and laughed while she ran up to each of them and shook their hands properly. When it came to Harry, he shook her hand and then pulled her in for a tight hug, rubbing her back slowly while swaying her back and forth and then whispering, “I can’t wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N had to admit, she felt much more relaxed around the boys after a few days of shooting, especially around Harry.

It had been day two of shoot and they already got a few verses of the song done. Y/N had been having a blast filming with the boys and honestly didn’t even feel as if she were acting. 

Well,

maybe she was. She couldn’t really see herself tying the boys up in the basement of her house while spoon feeding them and practically forcing them to contribute with her in the video.

They all would have laughs in between takes, talking about the last scene they filmed and how crazy it would be if they were really in that situation. Harry found himself laughing with Y/N more instead of the boys.

He loved being around her, hearing her giggle and watching as she would slightly blush after doing a take that involved her to get a little closer toward Harry than normal. This made him blush as well.

“Alright! We’re gonna do another scene now.” the director of the video spoke out loud over the laughter and talking between Y/N and the boys. Causing them to all look over in his direction, Y/N next to Harry once he got their full attention. He continued, “Y/N, for this scene, I want you to tie Harry to ‘your bed’.” 

Her eyes nearly jumped out of her sockets, “ooohh.” all the boys said with a rawr of laughter shortly afterward. Y/N looked over at Harry who was smirking at the director, silently thanking him. “Yeah, yeah. You’re going to straddle him as well, while doing so, then maybe slowly lean down to his face while he sings the lyrics to you.”

“Hey, is this the music video fo’ Stockholm Syndrome? Or are we all surprisingly on the set of the next Fifty Shades of Gray movie?” a wave of laughter filled the room from Louis’ comment, leaving Y/N and Harry visibly blushing. She was wondering if he would be comfortable shooting a scene like that, practically the start of a kinky porno, and he thought the same thing with her.

“Wait, I don’ know if Y/N would be comfortable shootin’ a scene like tha’,-” Harry started, but was soon cut off by Y/N, “I’ll be fine,” he shifted his head away from the direction of the director to Y/N with narrowed eyebrows, “let’s do it.”

With that, Y/N was straddling Harry on a king size bed while tying his wrists above his head to the bed frame. As she leaned over him, he could smell her perfume, it was sensational, it smelt like tropical fruits from a beautiful island, almost as beautiful as her.

He had only been wishing he were wear a cup right now, to hide his boner if he would possibly get one during this scene, which he knew he probably would. Once she finished tying him up, she stared at him and smiled with her hands on her thighs, waiting for the director to cue the music and yell, “action.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a while, Harry couldn’t imagine being more happier than he was right now. If the director or the boys weren’t watching, he would most-likely be showing his kinky side by now.

She was so breath-taking, it was almost unbearable, he felt as if he were being tortured by being tied up and now having access to Y/N’s body. Not being able to have his hands roam her slim hips while he pulled in her in toward his face, just inches from his lips, right before he would press them onto hers, moaning softly into it as he opened his mouth slightly, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and hearing her whimper to him.

“Woah,” Y/N spoke as she felt the member between her thighs that she was sitting on grow in Harry’s pants. Harry blinked his daydream away before looking down at his crotch and groaning in embarrassment / pleasure with his eyes shut tight and his head leaned back against the head board.

“We haven’t even started yet, Harry.” “Shhh.” he told her quietly, trying hard to not have the director hear them, “I’m sorry- just bare with me.” he told her after looking at the boys and he director and seeing that they weren’t paying any attention to them.

“Don’t move too much, please.” he demanded to her in a soft tone that nearly sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t believe she was having this much impact on Harry, just from sitting on him- well, more like straddling him. She nodded and bit her lip lightly, only imagining what he would do to her if the director and the boys weren’t here. The thought slightly made her wet.

“ALRIGHT! CUE MUSIC!” the director yelled and nearly made Y/N jump out of her skin, causing her to shift her thighs slightly upward, having her hands fall on top of Harry’s chest. His eyes grew wide as he felt pleasure from Y/N’s shock movement, which allowed a groan to escape his lips.

Fuck,” he closed his eyes tight, “I’m sorry- he scared me.” Harry nodded, realizing that he had been a little louder than normal when he was asking to cue the music. “‘s alrigh’, just don’t continue.” he spoke softly to her with a chuckle escaping his lips after.

As much as he deeply wanted her to continue, he knew it’d be best if she didn’t. He didn’t know how the boys would react to him coming in his pants. He figured it would be something that should be saved for another time with Y/N. If there was going to be another time.

Once the music was playing, Y/N was doing exactly what the director was telling her to do, plus more. He had told her he wanted her to lean down to his face while Harry looked into her eyes, singing the lyrics with a shocked expression on his face. Harry really didn’t have to act for this scene at all. In fact he was hardly acting at all with Y/N.

During the scene, as Harry lip-synced to her, she would lightly kissed down his jaw, to make the scene more enjoyable and relatable to fans. Harry closed his eyes as he kept singing to her and then would slightly more his head to the side as she kissed further down his jaw to his neck.

His cock was pulsating at this point and Y/N was very damp too, the sexual tension was so thick between them that you could cut it with a knife. Oh, what he would give if he weren’t in a room with a camera and four boys.

“Alright, cut!” those words nearly saved Harry’s and Y/N’s life. If they were to continue any further, Y/N was sure she was going to forget all about the other people in the room and kiss her way down to the hem of his pants.

“Hey,” Harry was nearly panting to her, she shifted her head from the director’s direction, to his face with a smile, “yeah?” a smile formed at his lips now, “wha’ are yah doin’ afta this?” Y/N couldn’t help but blush at his words, he wanted to hang out with her, and she wanted that too, always has.

“Nothing, why?” she watched as his face brightened a bit from her response, “was wonderin’ if maybe you’d wanna go get coffee or somethin’,” he shrugged, with his hands still tied over his head, “spend a little alone time with yah.”

Y/N couldn’t help but nod in agreement with a smile painted on her lips, “I’d like that very much.”

Boyfriend Tom: The Little Things

It’s me, you and the little things too


• Time stands still as he kisses you

• Your legs rub against each together when in bed, the smooth feeling of your skin touching his comforts you

• Waking up in the middle of the night and feeling his arms around you

• He softly brushes his hand across your cheek

• Sinking into his hands as he cups your face

• Feeling oh so warm when he pulls you into his chest

• Fluttering your eyes as his kiss leaves you breathless

• Smiling to yourself as he plays with your hair

• Falling asleep to his heartbeat which is one of your favorite sounds

• Admiring just how beautiful he is when he isn’t looking

• Lying in bed together, staring into each other’s eyes and wondering how you got so lucky

• Waking up and opening your eyes to see him lying next to you

• Catching him staring at you which causes him to blush

• Both your eyes not breaking contact as you make love

• Asking and listening to how each other’s day was

• Unexpected hugs and kisses

• Feeling him breathe in and out as you cuddle

• The back and forth “I love you” before ending a phone call

• Finding a bunch of lovely and funny sticky notes he wrote and left for you

• He creates playlists for you to listen to when he has to leave and travel for work

• Slow dancing close together under the moonlight

• Each day, he gives you more reasons to love him

• Endless amounts of compliments to each other

Kisses by Sunflower Beds

ao3 // for @reallyelegantsharkfish

It’s not like Cas didn’t know it would happen eventually, inevitably. Maybe he thought he’d be the first to go. He’s the immortal one, but the Winchesters did have a knack for surviving.

Still, knowing that something is going to happen, knowing that Sam and Dean would not live forever even though it felt like they should, doesn’t prepare him for when it does happen.

Sam and Dean go out like they always promised they would. Fighting. It’s an honourable death but what is the point of an honourable death, Cas wonders, when your loved ones are lost to you.

In his last moments, Dean sees his life flash before his eyes which is how he knows that this time it will stick, knows it’s for good and there’s no coming back from this one.

In truth, he doesn’t actually see his life but feels it. He’s overwhelmed by a sense of accomplishment and he associates it to every time he took care of Sammy when they were children, got them through the night, got his kid brother to laugh instead of ask questions. He associates it with the first time he shot a firearm and his dad called him a natural. The first time he saved a life. The first time he saved the world. The first time he made Cas come.

A wave of joy hits him after that. Prank wars with Sam. Antics with Charlie. Driving Baby. His first lazy sunday with Cas. Every lazy sunday with Cas after that.

With his dying breath, Dean smells motor oil and pie and sex and honey and it all smells good. It smells perfect melded together, though it shouldn’t, and if it were bottled the label would read Life of Dean Winchester. He doesn’t smell blood or burning flesh or sulfur.

He hears his favourite tune along with Cas’ clumsy mumble and Sam’s off key singing.

Dean feels his life slip away with all his senses save for sight. That’s not to say he doesn’t see anything. He sees tree twigs that look big in the chubby hands of children, he sees long dark hair he hasn’t encountered before, a stone path and a bed of sunflowers and the sight of an ugly yellow backpack in Baby’s backseat. He doesn’t remember any of these things, not really, but he still somehow recognises them. They feel like memories that belong to him.

He doesn’t spare it much more thought than that. Oddly enough, Dean’s last thought is of the botanical garden Cas had wanted- insisted on- them going to. Dean didn’t care much for it but agreed because he wasn’t one to deny Cas anything. Still, it took them years to find the time to make the trip.

Sam decided to come along because there’s a library in the area that has a whole section on south american lore, something the men of letters bunker was lacking. He knew he was essentially crashing their date so Sam offered shotgun to Cas.

He was a little cramped in the backseat and had to angle his body sideways to make room for his legs but he noticed how when Dean’s hand wasn’t on the gear shift it was in Cas’ so he didn’t mind so much.

Halfway there was when they got the call that lead the brothers to their final case. To this final moment where Dean’s only regret is that he doesn’t get the chance to be led around between patches of greenery by Cas as the angel prattles on about one fact or another.

Castiel drives the impala back to the bunker. He could have flown it but that didn’t feel right. He gets pulled over once and he thinks the officer takes pity on him. Cas can imagine what he looks like, the blue of his puffy eyes contrasting with the veiny red, hair looking like it’s been tugged at- because it has, his chapped gnawed-at lower lip stained red from the blood he can taste.

He doesn’t make it to the bed he shares with Dean. He pretends it’s because the bedroom is so far down the hall and he’s so tired and but it’s because he can’t bear the sight of it. He stumbles- he is exhausted- into a random room, sheds his trench coat halfway to the bed before he lands on it. Or lands on something on the bed.

SUPERNATURAL by Carver Edlund

It’s the room Charlie would stay in, he knows now. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up cracking open the book and reading all about the time Sam and Dean came across the croatoan virus for the first time.

It’s the real Dean, the depiction is accurate and these are real events from the hunter’s life but it’s not really Dean. It grows the already too wide hole inside of Cas. He can’t bring Dean back. But he can’t be without him. So Cas leaves to meet versions of Dean he hasn’t come across before, versions of Dean even Chuck didn’t take the time to write about.

Dean is three, almost four, when Cas, invisible, appears in the boy’s Lawrence home. Dean is kneeling on the sofa beside a pregnant Mary who keeps telling him that it’s ok to touch.

“It’s your little brother in there, Dean,” She says.

Dean purses his still thin lips, scratches a hair full of hair that’s only blond like Mary’s in the summer, and says, “That’s where daddy put him?”

Mary chokes a little when she laughs and moves into a tamed explanation of the birds and the bees.

Cas doesn’t listen, his eyes are peeled on Dean. This little boy who has no idea he’ll one day save a dying sun. This little boy that scrunches his face just like his Dean does, that shakily places a hand on his mother’s belly all false bravado, that has freckles splayed across his cheeks.

All Cas wants to do is to move closer. Is to stare. Is to see if three year-old Dean has all the freckles his Dean has or if some appeared with time. All Cas wants is to hold this boy. To tell him he’s perfect. To tell him he is loved. Cas can’t do any of these things.

He decides that’s unacceptable.

At eight Dean already knows how to shoot a firearm, so when the kids in his class want to pretend the sticks they find along the fence of the school lot are guns he’s happy that one boy wants to stack twigs as high as he can instead.

Every recess, Dean looks for a pair of blue eyes and the darkest hair on the playground and the two go off together. Cas- though Dean calls him Scottie in this vessel- recounts to Dean these wild stories about a pair of heroes, and they run around reenacting them.

Keep reading

Brave of Heart and Calm of Mind (Chapter 1 of 3)

Pairing: Logicality

Prompt: “I don’t want you… I need you.”

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort with a Happy Ending (not yet though)

Words:  2307

Rating: T

Triggers: None (that I can think of)

Read on AO3 here 

Chapter Two | Chapter Three + Epilogue

Summary:

‘“There’s no use apologising,” comes Patton’s voice, casual and hard in a way it’s never been, as he busies himself with examining the pile of objects on the couch. He doesn’t look at Logan at all. “Not unless you mean it.”

He sounds so non-expectant that something in Logan’s chest floods.

“I know,” he says, forcing the words past the dryness in his throat, and Patton pauses. “That’s why I’m here.”’

A/N:

God, I’m so sorry for how long this took. First there was life, and then there was me being an insecure perfectionist with no concept of deadlines. This was requested by @treehouseart​ (about a month ago, I’m so sorry again) and I’ll be adding the rest of the taglist down below.

In order to make up for the delay, instead of a small little drabble this is now a full-length twoshot with a happy ending, set after Moving On Part 1: Exploring Nostalgia. Part 2 is not canon in this universe.

Side note (lol): I’ve been calling this Logicality #70 in my head for a month like some kind of perfume (because it was prompt #70 from the list.) I also originally just named this chapter ‘Angst.’ Hope you enjoy!

Keep reading

Asa Butterfield Imagine (ASAnators)

Anon asked, “heeey, could you write an Asa Butterfield with 39 and 53 pleaaase”

A/N: Of course! This was fun to do in class, because pshhh who does their actual work in class. Not this girl! (eh sometimes lol) Anyway- I hope you enjoy it! Reminder: Reader could be male or female.

39. “How long have you been standing there?”

53. “I’m flirting with you.”

Word count: 605


I slept over Asa’s apartment… I kind of got into an argument with my parents about stupid stuff, so I called Asa asking if I could hang around his for a while. “For a while” ended up being the whole night. I didn’t really wanna be at my parent’s house.

I had a crush on Asa too, he was just- the best. He was my best friend too, and he was just so great, how could I not like him!? His voice is so soothing and beautiful. His eyes? Precious. Everything about him, is so good…and I just- like him a whole lot.

In the morning I woke up in Asa’s bed. He wasn’t next to me which means he probably slept on the couch, leaving me the bed. I got up out of his bed, and went to the bathroom to do the casual morning routine or whatever.

When I got out I went to the kitchen and happened to pass by the living room and saw Asa sleeping on the couch. I smiled softly. He looked all cuddly and warm and adorable, and just…he looked perfect.

I saw a paper on the table, and in his handwriting it said, “make yourself @ home, stay as long as youd like” I smiled again and left it at the table and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Might as well, right?

I decided to make beans and some toast. That’s Asa’s favorite. Beans on toast. That would sure make a nice morning. I put some music on. It wasn’t so loud, just in case I would wake him up or anything.

I started making everything, and I just do this naturally I guess…but I started singing quietly and dancing to the music that was playing. When I turned around to get a plate I saw Asa standing there next to the door way.

My eyes widened as a deep blush grew on my face. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked with a worried voice. Of course I was worried! That i so embarrassing, oh my gosh…

“Long enough.” he said walking to get the plates I was going to get IN THE FIRST PLACE. “Was that supposed to be cute or something? Intentional?” he asked. Yes Asa. I dance like an idiot to look cute. Duh.

“Yes. I’m flirting with you. Can’t you tell?” I say sarcastically. He laughed and put the plates down at the table. I laughed as well trying my best to not seem awkward. Thank God, I didn’t burn the toast…

I put some breakfast on his plate, and some on mine, and I kept the music on. “You don’t mind, right?” I asked about the music. “No, no, it’s fine.” he did say to make myself at home so, that’s what I’m doing. I nodded, and we both started eating.

After breakfast he looked at me and asked, “So when are you going back to your parent’s?” I sighed, “If you wanted me out that quick you could’ve just said so.” He shook his head and a smile showed up on his face, “I’m kidding. Come here.” he said holding his arms out and I received them.

This hug was amazing…it felt like all the bad things in the world no longer existed. I mean- that sounds stupid, but it’s true. “Thanks Asa. For letting me stay here and honestly everything.” I said. “No problem. It’s what friends do.”

Oh, friends. Right. Yeah, I doubt this is going any farther. So I nod and smile, hoping this hug lasts forever, even though I know it won’t.

Sweetest Thing

The bell above the door rang, catching your attention from wiping the front counter of non-existent crumbs. A grin encompassed your face as you caught sight of the pair crossing through the doorway.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite profilers,” you greeted to Emily and JJ, loudly enough that Derek and Spencer, who were a few feet behind them, could hear.

The two women exchanged a sly smile as they knew how much you loved riling up the latter. As predicted, Derek started laughing.

“Nah, mama, come on. You know who your favorite of the team is,” he ended with a wink in your direction.

You started pulling out plates for your four favorite customers, because, truth be told? You loved them all so much. When you opened up your bakery, Sweetest Things, over a year ago, they quickly became regulars. Well, regular enough with how often they leave town for their job.

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes at Derek’s comment. “Now, what would you guys like tonight?”

JJ’s eyes lit up as she went to look at the pastry selection you had, with Emily following quickly behind her. You could hear the two making comments and jokes while you turned to face Derek and Spencer, who were conversing quietly, but seriously, by how straight faced Spencer was.

Speaking of Spencer…he was your favorite. You’d never tell the group, of course, but you had a crush on Spencer as soon as he came through the door, following everyone in. The resident genius was full of facts that might seem boring and useless, but you loved. He was passionate about everything you two talked about, ranging from the shows you both enjoyed to books, which he could talk about for hours. You loved seeing how excited he would get, falling deeper for him as he talked.

Seeing how deep in conversation Derek and Spencer still were, you went over to help Emily and JJ, lamenting the loss of the others who couldn’t join tonight.

Spencer glanced at you as you were laughing with JJ over Emily’s inability to commit to a man other than Sergio while Emily pretended to be shocked and hurt.

“My feelings for her are growing, Derek. I have no idea what to do. She’s such a great, kind person and I don’t want to bring her into my world. And that’s assuming she even feels the same towards me. Let’s say I do ask her out, and she does say yes. That doesn’t mean happy ever after, and you know it. You saw what happened with Hotch. He and Haley weren’t even together anymore when…”

Spencer trailed off in thought when Derek put his hands on Spencer’s shoulders.

“Listen, kid,” Derek began, “we’re profilers. I can tell you for a fact that Y/N has feelings for you. If you don’t believe me, then we can ask Emily, JJ, Hotch, Rossi. Hell, even Penelope would agree and she’s the technical analyst. Y/N’s crazy for you. As for the danger of our job? That’s a price we all have to pay. But we can all protect her if that’s what has to happen. You can’t just spend all your time living in fear. You need to act on your feelings. Y/N’s a great girl, and if you keep waiting, you’re going to lose your chance. Ultimately, the choice is yours, but I’m telling you—act on your feelings before it’s too late.”

Derek gave him a grim smile before walking off to join Emily, JJ, and you near the pastries.

Left alone for a minute, Spencer pondered his thoughts. He really did love Y/N, but who’s to say she felt the same? He glanced over at you and his choice was made for him when he saw you smile whole-heartedly at him before giving your attention back to the group and throwing your head back as you laughed loudly at a comment Derek made. He was going to tell you how he felt, and if it didn’t work out? Then he would at least still have your friendship. He wasn’t going to let the world and a chance at love pass him by.

Spencer walked over to join the group. “Hey, Y/N. Can we talk, privately?”

As soon as Spencer said ‘privately,’ you knew something was up.

“Sure, Spence,” you said lightly. Inside, though, you were nervous as all hell. Oh, god, you thought. He knows I have feelings for him. Of course he would, you thought. He’s a profiler for the FBI for God’s sake. His job is literally to psychoanalyze. Oh, god. He’s going to tell me he doesn’t feel the same and that I make him uncomfortable and that this friendship is over. Your thoughts were racing when Spencer began talking and you finally looked at his face and realized that his facial expression is mimicking your internal thoughts. He looks nervous as he starts.

“Y/N, listen. I just want to say that I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and I hope we can still be friends if you don’t feel the same. Just let me get through this,” he puts his hands up as you make to interrupt him. “I was entranced by your presence as soon as I walked through those doors. Your laughter is contagious and always makes me laugh and let loose after a tough case or when I’m feeling down. Your smile is the one thing I think of when I can’t sleep at night. Your eyes are the most beautiful color that I can imagine, and I find myself dreaming of them night after night. There’s no one else I’d rather talk to about Dr. Who or Sherlock Holmes. You’re intellectually captivating and your personality shines brighter than your smile. You’re funny and pure and amazing and I just want to tell you that I love you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I just had to let you know because I don’t want to live my life without you. You brighten up my life and I don’t want to let that go.”

Spencer wrings his hands as he finishes his speech, searching your face for a sign that his feelings are reciprocated. You’re speechless for a minute, which gives him a bad feeling as he sighs and begins apologizing.

“No, Spence-Spencer. I love you, too. I just-I’m in shock? I didn’t expect you to feel the same. I actually thought you were going to tell me to leave you alone because I made you uncomfortable,” you nervously laughed.

“You what?” Spencer asked, eyes wide and mouth forming a smile.

“I um, I love you too,” you said shyly, looking up at him across the counter that was still in between you two.

The next thing you knew, his hands were reaching out to grab your face and pull you closer and his lips were on yours, softer than you could ever imagine. All too soon, it was over, but you were overwhelmed with the joy that was coursing through your body.

You were still lost in your thoughts and happiness while holding Spencer’s hand when you heard Derek whistle. You turned to look at the trio who were all eating their desserts, smugly smiling. You were just glad that there was no else in the bakery until you heard them all discussing bets and who owed who money.

“I had them for April,” you heard Emily say.

“Yeah, I said February,” JJ announced, “really thought Y/N would have done something. Like, bake him a cake with ‘i love you’ on it for Valentine’s Day.”

“Baby girl’s got it down, she’s the one that said July,” Derek said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted, “you guys all placed a bet on when Spencer and I would get together?”

You were shocked, but the three profilers just laughed.

“You guys were so into each other, I’m surprised boy genius over here didn’t realize sooner that you were in love with him,” Derek said, smirking.

You glanced over at Spencer, who was blushing slightly and looking down.

“It’s okay, Spence. We’re together now,” you said, reaching up to kiss his cheek

  • Andromeda Tonks, who hears the wireless announce her husband’s death just moments after she’s stepped into the kitchen with the cold tea tray. 
  • Andromeda Tonks, whose world has been upended, who can no longer hear anything but a strange buzz in her ears and the crash of the china as she slams into a nearby counter.
  • Andromeda, who thinks that something’s not right, something’s wrong because Lee Jordan is a nice boy who wouldn’t lie about this, wouldn’t lie about things like this, but he must be because Ted can’t…he can’t have—
  • Then the buzzing stops and there’s a strange wailing sound coming from the parlour…Nymphadora, Nymphadora.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who runs on unsteady legs back to the living room to catch her daughter before she falls to the ground, her tears hot and heavy and splashing against her mother’s arms.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who sinks to the ground and holds her sobbing daughter to her chest and rocks her as she stares unseeingly at the floral wallpaper Ted had always detested.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who has to keep it together for her daughter’s sake—for her grandson’s sake—even as her hands are shaking and her mind is numbing and her heart is breaking.
  • Andromeda Tonks, no, Andromeda Black now, who comforts her Dora until Remus Apparates to their door and all three of them hold each other until Dora’s all but cried herself to sleep.
  • Andromeda, who feels only cold and numb but touches Remus’ rough cheek in thanks when he cleans up the kitchen and brings Dora up to bed.
  • Andromeda, whose wall of dignity and grace from years and years of Black upbringing finally collapses and she falls heavily on the couch because it’s the middle of the night now but she can’t she can’t go back up to the bedroom full of his things or the study that still smells like him or even the kitchen because he’d bloody bought that tea set
  • Andromeda, who can no longer stop the tears and the screams she tries to muffle by shoving her fists against her mouth and the agony is too much and she can be there for her daughter and her son-in-law tomorrow because it is too much right now and she’s panicking and gasping because she can’t remember Teddy’s voice she can’t remember she can’t remember— 
  • It’s many hours later before Andromeda’s throat grows hoarse and closes up and she just stares across the dark room with tears still sliding down her face and Teddy’s grin burned into the backs of her eyes.
  • Andromeda Black, who can hear many things: the cars passing on the street outside, Teddy’s whoop of delight when he jumped into the lake that afternoon in their fifth year, branches tapping the windowpane, Teddy telling her he loves her in a voice that’s raw and low and brittle as ice, a neighbour’s dog barking at nothing, Teddy laughing laughing laughing
  • Andromeda Black, who finally gets up from her sleepless dark eternity on the sofa at six in the morning with tear tracks on her sticky face and teeth marks on her fingers, who goes to the loo and washes her face and fixes her hair, who rebuilds that wall of strength and quiet courage and no, she’s not Andromeda Black, she’s bloody Andromeda Tonks and Ted Tonks will always be her husband and their lives aren’t over yet.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who marches onward for her daughter and her grandson and herself, who helps Dora give birth to a healthy baby boy, who squeezes her daughter and son-in-law’s hands when she hears her grandson’s name.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who goes back to that bedroom and that study—eventually—and tidies it up but just a little, even if just to remember the exasperated chuckle Teddy always used to make when she cleaned up after him.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who watches Remus Lupin come and go with more bruises and scratches and shadows under his eyes, and who then (after weeks of arguments) tentatively lets Dora back out because she trusts Remus to bring Dora back and trusts Dora to bring Remus back and they trust her to care for their son, their Teddy Lupin. 
  • Until one day, that horrible day in May, where they go and they don’t come back.
  • And Andromeda Tonks, who thinks she’s been here before, been in this suspended state of buzzing and silence and horrible clarity, feels as though the ground is swallowing her whole as she stares at Dora’s Lupin and her Dora, her beautiful beautiful baby girl, her darlingdearestdea
  • Andromeda Tonks, whose legs refuse to let her fall even as she gazes at her daughter’s peaceful face and thinks about how she’s failed Dora, failed Ted, failed the baby sleeping in the other room that has Dora’s mouth and Ted’s ears and—
  • Andromeda Tonks, who sees only blurs, who accepts condolences without listening, who returns stiffly to the house that once held everything and is now empty and silent and cold.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who no longer has any more strength to give, who no longer has any more tears to cry, who no longer feels anything except the throbbing throbbing pain in her chest that's’ never really gone away and is now threatening to crack her open because none of this was supposed to happen because being a Muggle-born wasn’t ever supposed to be a bad thing and this war wasn’t ever supposed to last this long and her sister wasn’t ever supposed to kill her own niece and she wasn’t ever supposed to have to outlive her own daughter, her own Nymphadora…
  • Andromeda Tonks, who finds that there are always more tears to cry, and this time when she collapses she’s scared she won’t ever be able to get back up again because all the walls of poise and dignity are down crumbling disintegrating and she won’t bother building them back up again—she doesn’t want to because it was that family that built them in the first place scorching them into her like a brand and that family that helped start this bloody war and that family that took away her entire world
  • Andromeda Tonks, who this time is silent in her grief, Andromeda Tonks, who is drowning in the feeling of her chest caving in and her mind screaming and her heart a writhing living broken flame burning and burning and— 
  • Andromeda, who through the tunneling blackness her existence has now become hears the wails of the one person, one thing she cannot abandon, because her health and spirit and sanity would fail before she dared to fail him; her grandson, her Teddy, her Dora’s pride and joy. 
  • Andromeda Tonks, who claws her way out of the empty chasm with no answer and furiously shakes away the numbness, who pulls herself up on her shaking legs and can almost hear Dora and Ted telling her to get up get up get up
  • Andromeda Tonks, who makes it to her grandson and scoops him up and holds him to her chest and sinks to the parlor floor where she’d held her devastated daughter once upon a time, cooing and fussing and crying alongside him for a mother who won’t ever return.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who remembers everything: Ted raising Dora above his head in the sunlight, the feel of his stubble in the morning, Dora’s giggles as she turns her hair pink blue green, those canary yellow sneakers she adored, licking the ice cream off Dora’s cheeks, Ted’s horrible singing when they stargazed on the Quidditch pitch in seventh year, Dora’s cartoons in the margins of her letters home, the three of them all together and hugging and laughing—and she knows she can be strong for Teddy and herself because she’s Andromeda Black and Andromeda Tonks and she will be the very best of both because this is her daughter’s son in her arms and their lives aren’t over yet.
  • Andromeda Tonks, who has risen and fallen and risen again and who will keep on rising for herself and for this boy, her grandson, her Teddy Lupin, and remind him all the rest of their days just how much his mummy and daddy and grandpa Ted and grandma Dromeda would always love him and love him and love him.

AO3

Pardon Our Ectoplasm

Christmas Truce gift for @anemptymorgue, who asked for something humorous to do with Amity Park’s general citizens and their relationship with ghosts. Hope you like it!

This, Wes berated himself, is why you didn’t do last-minute Christmas shopping in Amity. “But you can’t be sold out!”

The blue-shirted associate - Neil, according to his name tag- shrugged. “Sorry sir; we’re technically not sold out- we’re out of stock.”

“What’s the difference?!”

“One has us selling things like a normal store, and the other one is that cyber ghost popping through the ceiling and making our inventory attack people like it was the machine uprising.” 

Another associate sweeping up broken and scorched plastic added, “Only instead of killer robots it was iPads and overpriced HDMI cables.”

“The cyber ghost?” Kwan piped up behind Wes. “Which one is that?”

“Yeah, y’know…the cyber ghost?” At their blank expression, Neil pressed. “Come on: green skin, lab coat, lame shades? Has that shrieky voice that sounds like that one dude?”

Wes glanced back at Kwan, Dash, and Dale, who all shrugged. 

“Wait, Terry would totally know this. He’s a big Ecto-Fanboy.” He called across the store, loud and echoing with nothing but empty shelves between them. “Hey Tere! What was the name of that ghost yesterday! The techie one?”

“You mean Technus?” someone across the store hollered back. “How do you forget that? He talks in the third person! He was constantly telling people his name. The first thing he said was ‘It is I, Technus, Master of Machines and all that goes beep-boop!’ He did it in that weird Gilbert Gottfried kinda voice.”

Neil snapped his fingers. “Gilbert Gottfried, that was it!” 

Keep reading

First Meeting

alright, here’s my second rick x reader fic! i’m,, so sorry it’s so long oh my go s h

i considered breaking it up into maybe two or three chapters, but i wanted to get it all out there in one fell swoop

this fic contains the reader going through a heart-wrenching breakup, borderline alcohol abuse, the presence of a knife used in a threatening manner, and 1 (one) death happens (kinda eventful and admittedly dark for the stuff i normally write but wanted to go into a territory i normally don’t go into with my writing, so!!)

let me know what you guys think ;u; !

~~~

It finally happened. You just didn’t think it would happen as soon as it did. You always had suspicions that he was being unfaithful, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it, even after all this time. He just made everything feel so believable.

You were more stunned than anything. You were still in that initial phase where everything felt surreal – like a soft veil had been placed over reality; everything sounded muffled. Lights had a soft bloom effect. People moved in slow motion. You weren’t actually there; you just… existed.

And then one day, out of nowhere, reality finally sunk in. It hit you harder than anything ever had before.

Keep reading

Imagine Jacob being shy around you until he gets jealous about another man flirting with you

Originally posted by walshconnr

A/N: I got a ton of Jacob requests and this just happened to be the most finished work, so I quickly finished it up and badda bing badda boom! Hope you guys like it!



Jacob Frye.

A charming, ambitious man who was known to be skilled with both his words and his cane sword.

Did I mention he was a gang leader? And an Assassin?

His personality certainly befitted his job. And he knew it. His confidence and occasional arrogance practically radiated off of him.

And yet…

How come he had such a damn hard time talking to you?

It’s not like you scared him, or intimidated him. He respected you, and your presence always put him at ease. But just looking at you wasn’t what made him so nervous and flustered; it was when you talked to him. When you were so near him, he could see every little perfection and beautiful flaw. And when you spoke- we aren’t talking about little things, we’re talking about when you got passionate about the conversation. The way your eyes would light up and your voice would rise a little higher and your lips would curl into a lovely smile. He noticed those things about you, and he wondered how someone like you could even associate with him.

It probably didn’t help that Evie and Henry both knew about his little crush on you. Evie subtly teased him about it while Henry did his best not to bring it up for the most part (although sometimes he couldn’t hold back a small quip). Whenever you and him were anywhere near each other, Evie would cast a knowing look at Jacob, to which Jacob would scowl. It’s not like he was afraid of you rejecting him, of course not!

Well… maybe a little…

Or a lot.

~~~

It was a cool, cloudy evening in London. You, the Twins, and some Rooks were all having a few drinks at a pub, celebrating the victory over the Blighters in a big gang war. You were watching everyone celebrate, and your eyes lingered a little bit longer than normal on Jacob, who was drinking alongside a lanky Rook with blond hair. What was his name again? Nathan? Michael? No… Nigel! You were pleased that you had remembered his name, and in those few moments, you didn’t notice a man sit down next to you. You only realized he was there when he began talking.

“And what’s a lovely young lady doing here, all alone?”

You smiled, “Just enjoying the lovely London weather.” You replied. The man didn’t seem scary or malintent, so there was no harm in letting him talk, right? He laughed, “Ah yes, the gorgeous rain and clouds. Why haven’t the poets immortalized this city like they do Rome and Venice?” This in turn made you laugh, which caught the attention of Jacob, who was sitting across the pub. He glared at the man almost instantly- how dare that man just waltz right up to Y/N and start chatting her up like it was nothing! That was supposed to be his job!

He just sat and watched the two converse, periodically taking angry swigs of ale. He wanted to intervene, but it was Y/N’s choice. She didn’t look uncomfortable, so pulling her away would make her cross with him.

“Feeling a bit jealous, Jacob?”

Evie was smiling a tad mischievously at him, that same look in her eyes. Jacob rolled his eyes, “How can he talk to her and I can’t? I’m twice as smooth as that guy- and three times as handsome.”

“Maybe it’s because he has the balls to take a chance.” Evie smirked.

“I do have-!” He paused, realizing he really didn’t want to shout ‘I do have balls!’ in a pub, in front of Y/N.

“I do have them,” He continued, quieter, “But have you seen her? She’s just… wow.”

“I do see her. I’m seeing her right now.” Evie replied dryly. Jacob narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose. Evie went on before he could say anything, “Why don’t you just tell her after they’re done talking?” Jacob sighed loudly, “What if they don’t stop talking, though? What if they do more than talk?” Evie lightly smacked his head, “Head out of the gutter, Jacob. She doesn’t seem infatuated with him. They’ll stop talking soon enough- make your move then.”

Sometimes Jacob loved his sister’s logic, and sometimes he hated it. Right now, he wasn’t sure whether he loved or hated it.

~~~

“It was lovely chatting with you, love,” The man- Houston Price, you found out- was readying to leave. You just smiled and nodded, “I enjoyed talking to you as well, Mr. Price.” He took your hand and lightly kissed it, and bid you farewell. You felt a light blush on your face- it certainly was nice to be flattered by a young man every once in awhile. Even better, he was an utter gentleman about it. Usually you expected drunken swine.

“Y/N, may I, um…”

Jacob was standing where Houston just was, “May I have a…” He glanced over at Evie, who nodded her head encouragingly. “A word?”

“Sure Jacob, is there something wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, “No, no. Just… Come outside with me.”

You followed him just outside the pub, away from the other Rooks and Evie. You were alone now, and the streets of London were unusually quiet, even for a cloudy night. Jacob looked a bit… anxious? That was strange; Jacob was usually a ball of heave-ho confidence and a sureness that you had always admired. Now, though, he seemed almost worried.

“Y/N… I just…” His face was slowly getting redder, and he had a difficult time making eye contact with you, “I wanted to… ask… about that man from earlier.”

“Earlier, as in three minutes ago?”

“Yes.” He looked to the right a bit awkwardly.

“Well, alright. What about him?”

“You didn’t… you know… enjoy his company very much, right?”

“Well, he was very chivalrous and polite. I cannot say I didn’t.” You told him honestly.

“Oh… well…” Jacob seemed at a loss for words.

“You seem a bit off right now, Jacob,” You tried to look him in the eye, which he seemed adamant to do, “Everything alright?”

“No! Well… mostly, but no!” His voice got a bit more direct, and his eyes snapped up to meet your own. You blinked in surprise, but urged him to elaborate.

“It’s just… He was a stranger, who just started talking to you!”

“That’s how conversations work, Jacob.”

“No! I mean, he was flirting with you!” He put emphasis on ‘flirting’, as well as a bit of bitterness.

“What’s wrong with that?” You crossed your arms. You wished he would just get to the point.

“Because some sod decided it was fine to try to chat you up!”

You were a bit surprised by this. Why would Jacob care about that?

Was he…

“Oh my god,” You said aloud, “You’re jealous?”

Jacob almost looked genuinely offended, “Wha-? Me, jealous? I… I have no clue what you mean, Y/N!”

You were surprised by this newfound talkativeness from Jacob. It’s not like Jacob was a reserved person to begin with, it was just that Jacob always seemed quieter around you. It was as if he had little to say. Evie had told you once he was shy around you, but you hadn’t taken her words to heart. Turns out, she was right, because now that he had had a few drinks, and was overboiling with some kind of apparent emotion, Jacob seemed to be quite able to talk to you.

In the moments of reflection that Jacob had taken for a disbelieving silence, he was looking around as if trying to find what he wanted to say next. An awkward silence fell between the both of you, as you didn’t really know how to approach this situation, and Jacob was still trying to figure out how to word the things he wanted to tell you.

Evie was watching, hoping that Jacob would pull up his little boy pants and just tell her his feelings. Watching the two dance just out of each other’s reach was frustrating, sometimes infuriating. Y/N was a good choice for Jacob, as he needed someone like Y/N in his life.

“Look, Y/N, I just…” Jacob rubbed the back of his neck, deciding that he would rather get it done and over with instead of drawing it out like he was doing, “You know the way that Evie and Greenie look at each other? All sickly sweet and that rot?”

You nodded, and could faintly hear a tsking sound from Evie.

“Well, that’s how…” He shifted awkwardly, “That’s how I look at you. I guess I just wanted to say… I like you. A lot.”

“Like… like-like, or just…?”

“Like-like!”

“Oh…” You felt a rush of hidden happiness. Jacob had feelings for you? This was great! You grinned, “Well, Mr. Frye,” You tried to sound calm, although your insides were all fluttery, “I like-like you too.”

Jacob’s eyes lit up, “Really?” His voice was higher pitched from his surprise. He then coughed and repeated, “Really? Well, good.” His goofy smile spread across his face, and from where she stood, Evie could almost feel the happiness radiating off of him.

~~~

“You seem very pleased with something, Evie.”

Henry walked up to stand beside her, noticing Y/N and Jacob just outside. The two looked happy. Like two kids hearing that they would be getting their favorite dessert.

Evie smiled, her blue eyes glinting with quiet contentment. They were happy together, and they finally both realized it.

It took them long enough.

Seasons

A/N: Hi so um, I wrote a thing. Please tell me if you like the thing. This is loosely based on the musical The Last Five Years, so the timeline jumps around a bit. If you are not familiar with the show it’s okay, it’s not crucial.. Anyways, sorry if this isn’t very good, I tried writing it once before for something else, but I’m liking how this one is turning out way more.

Warnings: none? Some mild drinking and I think there is one swear

word count: 3,284  

Originally posted by toyboxboy



Autumn, Fifth Year

A hand-written letter lay open on the desk before you. There was once a time when you loved coming home to see notes around the apartment, cute little messages or words of encouragement for the day. Now they just served as a sick reminder of what was.

What was, was such a bold and clear statement for what was happening. What was, made it sound like this was a recent discovery, when in fact it was months and months of buildup. No matter how many photos you hung on the wall or how many flaws you tried to cover there was no denying that. Maybe if you had been given one more day together it could have been different. Maybe there could’ve been a compromise when there was no more lies to tell. And maybe, just maybe, you could’ve seen this coming.

It wasn’t certain if it was all supposed to end this way. Though it seemed now there wasn’t much you could do about it. It was not your choice to make, he had decided that for you both. That idea had been locked away the moment something better had presented itself. Someone.

If this was how your story was supposed to end maybe you shouldn’t have started it to begin with. You could have saved yourself from the scars and pain that had been left in his wake. Looking back on everything you don’t know how someone could move on, but it was something you were going to have to do. Something you were going to do alone, in an apartment full of every lie and reminder of why you were broken. The very letter that triggered it all still in front of you, next to it a ring that served only as an empty promise. Crying to yourself silently, because for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to breakdown like you so desperately wanted. While it hurt to keep it in, you knew it would only hurt yourself more to let everything out. Perhaps that was the easier part in running, you didn’t have to live with it all.

No.

It wasn’t that simple, not for you at least.

Eventually you would stop hurting, but for now you would have to learn to live with it. Now you would have to try and see the new beginning at the end of this sad chapter. If not for yourself, then for the girl you used to be. The girl who was so happy and full of love, the girl Spencer fell in love with.

Spencer

Just thinking of his name made another wave of tears fall. You didn’t wipe them away; it didn’t matter anymore. It’s not like there was anyone there to see you cry anyways. He wasn’t there, Spencer was gone. There was no clock to turn back, no story to rewrite that was going to change that, you could see that now. But that didn’t stop it from hurting. Somehow, through these tears, you’d find there was something to take from all of this. For now, though, you’d cry. You’d cry, and hurt, and reminisce of the years spent.


Spring, First Year

Parties weren’t normally your thing. It’s not like you completely resented them, they just weren’t at the top of your list on how to spend your weekend. However, your roommate, Penelope, insisted on dragging you along to her friend’s engagement party.

“Y/N could you be any slower?”

You rolled your eyes at your blonde roommate, quickening your pace to join her up the walkway to a very busy house. Penelope was already up the front steps and knocking by the time you had finally reached her. For a girl in five inch heels she could move. You bounced on the balls of your feet, anxiety settling in as you waited for the door to be answered. Should you have gotten a different gift? The bottle of wine you had bought weighing you down and causing you to slightly panic, especially when you saw the personalized His & Her towels Penelope had got. The wine, though pricey, and would definitely be setting you back on next month’s rent, suddenly seemed like a very stupid idea. Penelope had insisted it was fine, that you didn’t need to buy a gift anyways given you had only found out you were coming with her this morning. Your inner monologue was cut short when the door opened, a lean brunette male behind it.

“Will!” Penelope grinned, throwing her arms around him.

Will laughed, returning the eager woman’s bone crushing hug. Something about his expression told you that he still hadn’t become accustomed to Penelope Garcia’s hugs. The two pulled away and Will opened the door further, inviting both of you inside. You followed behind Penelope, thanking Will as you entered the house.

“You remember, Y/N, my roommate” Penelope turned to Will, taking off her jacket as she spoke. You offered him a kind smile, waving your free hand awkwardly. You and Will had only met once or twice, when he and his fiancé, Jennifer, had come over to the apartment. Not much had ever been said, you usually opted to stay in your room or go out with your own friends whenever your roommate had company over.

“It’s nice to see you again” Will returned your smile, then taking Penelope’s jacket from her and hanging it in the hall closet.

“You too.” You said, reaching out to shake Will’s hand. He smiled again, giving your hand a firm shake and you felt your nerves start to ease. Penelope grabbed you by the wrist, telling Will she would catch up with him later, and lead you through the house. You followed along, despite kinda knowing the engaged couple and being here with someone you still felt out of place. Penelope wedged the two of between a pair of men chatting at the end of the hall, you apologized to them as you were dragged along behind her towards another blonde standing at the entrance of the living room.

“Garcia!” the blonde pulled Penelope into a hug, releasing you from her hold.

“JJ!” Penelope was practically bouncing as she hugged her newly engaged friend. She handed JJ the gift bag containing the towels she had gotten for her and Will. JJ thanked her and placed it next to the growing pile of gifts beside the couch. They started talking and you started to feel more out of place than you had before. However, that soon left your mind when JJ turned to you and pulled you into a hug much like the one she gave Penelope.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” You couldn’t help but grin at her greeting. In the few times, you had met, JJ had always been very welcoming and sweet. You hadn’t met a lot of Penelope’s friends, but she was by far your favorite.

“It’s good to see you, Jennifer.” You replied to the kind blonde woman.

“Please, call me JJ” she insisted. You nodded and offered her the bottle of wine you brought. JJ thanked you and took the bottle, raising her eyebrows at the label, looking impressed. You felt relief wash over, glad the fancy wine was a suitable gift.

“Morgan is in the kitchen if you wanted to go say hi” JJ said to Penelope. The woman’s eyes lit up behind her glasses and she thanked JJ, pressing a kiss to her cheek before hurrying off, leaving you with JJ. Trying your best not to make the situation uncomfortable, you made small talk. You asked how the wedding planning was and she said it was going fine and that her and Will were going to test cakes next weekend. She asked you how your career was and if you were still dating that guy from your improv troupe, both of which were negative answers, but she didn’t need to know the full story. Instead, you opted for “it’s going good” and “no, not anymore.” Eventually she was pulled away by some other guests at her party, which was fine since you should probably go find Penelope anyways.

You headed off towards the direction you last saw Penelope go, hoping she hadn’t trailed off too far. Luckily the kitchen wasn’t far from where you were, and you found her standing around the kitchen island, chatting with two other men. She saw you as soon as you entered the room, waving you over to join them. You hurried over, smoothing down your dress as you approached the small group.

“I was wondering where you were!” Penelope said, handing you a drink.

“JJ and I were having polite conversation.” You explained, taking the drink from her and thanking her. Penelope rolled her eyes, lightly nudging her shoulder against yours. You took a small sip from your beverage, a simple vodka soda, knowing it was probably going to be your only drink for the night.

“There’s our next broadway star!” one of the two guys pulled you into a side hug. You laughed, hugging him back with one arm, as your other hand was holding your drink.

“Hi, Derek” you grinned up at dark skinned male. Derek Morgan was one of Penelope’s friends you knew quite well, due to their close friendship. When you had first heard her talk about him you had assumed they were dating, later realizing that calling each other “baby girl” and “chocolate thunder” was just how they were.

“Should I be expecting front row tickets to your next show any day soon?” Morgan asked, clinking his glass to yours and then taking a sip. “I have an audition on Sunday so I’ll let you know then.” You tried to play it off but deep down hoping you hadn’t just jinxed it.

“You’re an actress!” the other guy had chimed in, his words coming off more as a statement than a question. You turned towards him, nodding. Unlike Morgan, you were not familiar with him. He was tall, thin, a mop of light brown curls on his head, and unmistakably attractive.

“Y/N’s too humble to brag, but she’s really good. I took Morgan to go see her play Marian in Music Man last winter and it was amazing!” Penelope said and Morgan nodded in agreement. You blushed at your friend’s words. In all honesty, it was just small little black box production, nothing too special, but Penelope was still supportive. She brought Morgan along, and the two of them had even given you flowers and took you out to eat after. You found yourself smiling fondly at the memory. Morgan cleared his throat, elbowing the curly haired man next to him, who you had now realized had been staring at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and took another sip of your drink. Penelope and Morgan shared a look and just as you were about to ask them what was going on, JJ had entered the room.

“Hey guys, Rossi is a little drunk and giving a lecture about love, just thought you should know.” JJ said, pointing over her shoulder. Both Penelope and Morgan quickly followed, laughing about their drunken friend. Once again you found yourself alone with someone you had hardly knew. Though this time you had realized you didn’t even have a name. You two stood in silence for a while, not knowing who should speak first.

“So bride or groom?” you asked, the quiet getting to you.

“Oh, um, bride I guess.” He said, “I’m Spencer by the way.”

Spencer.

So, that was his name. You smiled and told him your name, even though he probably already knew it. You offered him your hand to shake, and for a moment, Spencer just looked at it. It was like he was trying to figure out if he should take it or not, in the end deciding to take your hand. His hand was warm, his fingers wrapping around yours. You knew that you wouldn’t mind getting the chance to have your hand in his again, but pushed those thoughts away given this was a man you had just met.

“What do you do, Spencer?” you asked when he let go of your hand. “I’m a writer.” He explained, looking at the door where his friends had just left. You wondered if he was debating on leaving, though you probably wouldn’t blame him if he did. He surprised you however, instead relaxing his shoulders and turning his attention fully towards you.

“Working on anything lately?” You reached for some pretzels in a bowl in the island, popping a couple in your mouth.

“I just finished my novel, actually.” Spencer smiled, putting both hands in his pockets, he wasn’t used to talking about himself. You gestured with your hand for him to continue, “it’s a fictional crime novel. Which, did you know that one of the first full length crime fiction stories was published in 1827? However there are actually reports of crime fiction dating back to the tales narrated by Scheherazade, and there is a certain type crime fiction going all the way back to the Ming dynasty.”

Your eyes widened, not expecting the brief history lesson to come from the young man’s mouth. Spencer trailed off, immediately thinking his rambling had scared you off. Though, it was quite the opposite. You found yourself impressed, not just for his knowledge but for how he chose to display it. Spencer easily could’ve taken the opportunity to brag about his novel, hell, you half expected it. Instead, he chose to tell you facts and statistics, a genuine interest to him.

“No, I did not know that.” You said simply and you saw Spencer visibly relax. He broke out into a wide smile and looked down at his feet. “Did you always want to be an actress?”

You shrugged at the question, but answered anyways. You told him about how when you were a little girl you saw your cousin in her school play and immediately fell in love. After months of begging you had convinced your parents to sign you up for an after-school theatre program and had been hooked ever since. After high school, you moved to New York, and although it’s been a struggle, you haven’t looked back since. You asked him about becoming a writer, and he in turn told you about how his mother used to read to him a lot and he had found himself escaping into books at a very young age. Spencer was easy to talk to; his ramblings were adorable and he liked asking you questions about yourself. You found out that the two of you had a lot in common; you both lived in the city, you both had similar tastes in tv and literature. Honestly the more you got to know Spencer, the more attracted you became towards him. To him however, you were easily one of the most exciting people he had ever met. Maybe it was because he had never met someone like, or maybe it was because talking to you felt like talking to some he had been waiting so long for. Yeah, that was the best way to describe it. He had been waiting for someone like you.

Towards the end of the night the two of found yourselves sitting on the back steps of JJ and Will’s house. Spencer was laughing at some story you had told him about an audition you once botched when first moved to the city. His laughter died out when the back door opened. You both turned to see Penelope standing there, hands on her hips, and an accusatorial look on her face.

“Are you aware that I have been looking all over for you two?” She said, speaking to you and Spencer like two children being caught red handed. “Sorry, Pen.” you chucked, standing up and dusting off your pants, “are we going?”

Penelope nodded, making her way down the steps. She hugged Spencer goodbye, explaining that she had work early in the morning. As they talked you looked down at your phone, realizing you had been here for almost five hours now. You hadn’t realized so much time had passed, you hadn’t even planned on staying late because of the long drive back home. Most of the guests were probably gone by now. Penelope and Spencer pulled away, she went to say something else to him but noticed his gaze lingering over her shoulder. The blonde turned to look at you, your eyes still fixed at your phone. A knowing grin crossed her face and she immediately excused herself, “I’ll go warm up the car.”

She gave you a quick thumbs up before hurrying back into the house. Something told you that she wasn’t actually going to the car and was probably gossiping to JJ inside. You looked back at Spencer, not entirely sure what to do next. Do you hug him like Penelope had? Should you give him your number? Although neither seemed like a bad idea, you still went the safe route and reached your hand out.

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

Spencer took your hand in his, smiling, “it was my pleasure.”

You held hands for longer than necessary for a handshake but it didn’t seem like the two of you cared. When you finally had let go, you stepped away first, heading back up the steps to the house. Spencer followed behind, but when you reached the door he stopped you, lightly grabbing your arm.

“Can I call you sometime?” He asked. You nodded, handing him your phone and him doing the same. You punched your number into his contacts, adding a blushing smiley face by your name because why not? Once you each entered your numbers in you handed the other their phone back. He smiled at your name before slipping the phone back into his pocket. You exchanged goodbyes again and hurried through the house and out the front door where, to your surprise, Penelope was waiting with the car running in the driveway.

“Shut up” you blushed, setting into the passenger side and buckling your seat belt.

“I didn’t say anything!” Penelope defended, but her smile told you that there was definitely a lot of things she wanted to say. She pulled out of the driveway and you looked back at the house, smiling fondly. You turned back towards Penelope, opening your mouth to say something. Whatever you were going to say left your mind when your phone started ringing. Confused, you reached for it, not sure who could be calling you right now. Giddy excitement flooded over you seeing the name “Spencer Reid” flashing across the screen.

“Hello?” You answered. There was some shushing in the background, from what you could only assume was Morgan giving Spencer a pep talk.

“Hey, Y/N!” Spencer stuttered out from the other side, he said something to the people around him, quieting them “a-are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

You thought, remembering worked a day shift so you should be good, “no, why?”

“Do you wanna maybe have dinner? With me?” He sounded nervous and you immediately wanted to reassure him that he didn’t have to be

“I’d love too” you heard someone cheer in the background and one again Spencer urged them to be quiet. You covered you mouth with your hand, trying to muffle your laughter because this was too adorable. You told Spencer you’d text him when you got off work tomorrow and he eagerly agreed before hanging up. You bit your lip, smiling down at your phone.

Parties weren’t normally your thing, but this one didn’t seem so bad.


anonymous asked:

new anon please hit me over the head with dad might as hard as you can

I took that as a challenge, went and wrote probably the fluffiest and chessiest Dad Might I’ve ever written. I hope your in for it, dear anon! =D (Also, no hitting, sorry, I’m a pacifist.)

Here we go:

Living at the dorms, Toshinori had discovered, had quite a few perks to it, apart from practical reasons like being close to his students should anything happen, or being safe from harassing reporters.  

Most importantly, there were three times a day the former hero had come to enjoy very much. The evenings spent together with everyone, where they cooked together, before they proceeded to laze around the living room. The afternoons after training, where they usually played, trained some more, or he helped the kids doing their homework.

And, his most favorite, the early mornings.

Those early mornings where he went to wake up each of his students where the times Toshinori had come to love. It gave him the opportunity to see his student for what they really were – still children, innocent and young, even though they had already faced quite some hardships. It made the growing feelings of affection and protectiveness towards them even stronger.

There was Shouto, sleepily blinking up at him when he shook him awake gently. Bakugou, already awake when Toshinori entered his room, yawning and mumbling that he would be right there (no swears at all, since those mornings made even Bakugou calmer and more relaxed). Uraraka with gloves on which made sure that she didn’t float away in her sleep, humming softly in her throat when he called her quietly. Mina, instantly awake as soon as Toshinori stepped up next to her bed, waiting for a chance to hug him tightly and press a wet kiss to his cheek in greeting. Tsuyu, smiling softly at him and asking him if he had slept well before he could even ask her the same.

Each and every one of those little habits and details where already deeply ingrained in Toshinori’s memory, tucked away safely and close to heart, but every morning, he would beam in joy when they repeated themselves. Little gems that he intended to keep as long as he could.

But his absolute highlight, the one thing he saved up for last, was waking Izuku up.

The reason for that was not how peaceful Izuku looked in his sleep – even if he probably was the most calming sight Toshinori had ever seen in his life.

No, what really made this worth-while was the fact that Izuku sleep-talked.

Toshinori had discovered this approximately a few weeks prior, when he had first taken up the job of waking up the kids. Somehow, he had expected that Izuku, with his strict training regime, would be a light sleeper, would perhaps even be awake before someone could come and wake him up.

But the exact opposite was true, honestly. Izuku in the early mornings would be conscious enough to register being spoken to, even conscious enough to mumble and whisper something, but he could not be waken up that easily.

And in this state between sleep and waking, Izuku was quite talkative. Sometimes, it had sounded as if he was trying to solve a riddle even in sleep, or as if he was still dreaming.

But there had been this one time, when Toshinori had pulled the blanket off the boy in a fell swoop to wake him up, that Izuku had called out quite clearly, “Noooo, five more minutes, dad!” and curled back into himself.

That had been the moment where Toshinori had spat blood in surprise, blanket slipping out of his grip as he muffled his startled coughs behind one hand and used to other to steady himself as his knees turned to jelly all of sudden.

Dad.

Holy shit, it had been a good thing that Izuku had still been asleep, elsewise Toshinori would probably have suffocated upon their shared surprise and embarrassment.

Not that he minded, truly, he didn’t he… he had felt like floating after that, weightless and good upon hearing that the boy – his boy – thought that much of him. But still… facing Izuku after such a surprise was different. Probably the boy would even deny that he had said that, and that would hurt way too much.

So Toshinori settled for these early mornings, looking forward to each of them, eager to see what sleepy Izuku had to tell him this time.

Perhaps he was being childish about this, but he really had come to enjoy those quiet, peaceful minutes where he didn’t have to worry about not playing favorites with his student. Where he could just spend some quality time with Izuku.

So once he had made sure that nineteen of his students were up and ready to go, in no danger of falling asleep again once he left them, Toshinori made his way towards Izuku’s room.

Entering it, closing the door behind himself, Toshinori instantly heard the soft breathing that indicated that Izuku was still dead asleep, and a smile made its way onto his face.

Checking his watch, he noted that he still was almost fifteen minutes too early.

Perfect.

Slinking over to the bed, Toshinori took a quick look, smile only widening at the sight.

Izuku was facing him, laying on his side. The boy’s mouth was standing open ever so slightly, breath coming deep and slow. At some point, Izuku had kicked his blanket off the bed, like he had done so often already.

Chuckling quietly, Toshinori crouched down next to the bed, taking a closer look. There were no wrinkles between Izuku’s brows, his whole expression relaxed and peaceful in sleep, not worried or thoughtful as it was so often.

So young, Toshinori mused, reaching out to push a lock of green hair out of Izuku’s face. So young and yet such a hero already.

Izuku sniffled in his sleep, twitching as the gentle touch tickled him. Humming, the boy shifted, brows crinkling slightly as his consciousness resurfaced.

Pausing to make sure that he had not startled his student awake, Toshinori waited until Izuku had settled again before he sighed. Nothing for it. He had to wake the boy up at some point, anyway.

“Izuku,” he called softly, reaching over to stroke the boy’s freckled cheek. “Time to wake up, my boy.”

A confused sound left Izuku. Stirring, the boy blinked one eye open, then the other, blearily focusing on his mentor right in front of him. “Hmmmm?”

“Good morning,” Toshinori whispered gently, unable to keep the soft smile from his face.

“Mo’ning,” slurred Izuku, eyes falling closed already as he added something in a quiet mumble.

Chuckling, Toshinori shook his head at his student. Obviously not really awake yet. Cupping the boy’s face again, he said, a bit louder. “Izuku. Come on, no falling asleep on me here.”

There was a muffled sound, before Izuku’s left hand latched onto Toshinori’s, keeping the bigger hand trapped.

After a pause, Izuku tugged.

The pull was surprisingly strong for someone still asleep, and Toshinori actually had to steady himself before he fell flat on the bed in front of him. Choking out a laugh, the retired hero noted the impatient tug at his still trapped wrist.

Izuku was trying to pull him down onto the mattress.

“Oh no,” Toshinori snorted, tugging his hand back, “This is about getting you out of the bed, not about getting me into it.”

Izuku scrunched up his nose slightly, wrinkles appearing between his brows when he was denied. Apparently he was conscious enough to notice and get impatient, since he tugged at Toshinori’s wrist again, a bit stronger than before, mumbling something.

“Izuku…” Toshinori tried again, fighting to keep the laughter out of his voice as he put up some resistance.

And then, there it was, gentle and soft and yet like a punch to the stomach – Izuku mumbled, tugged, and finally, let out an impatient, drawn-out, “Dad!”

It was the second time the boy had called him that – and while half-asleep, too – but it still felt as if someone had pulled out the rug from under Toshinori. He took a sharp breath, shock, surprise and pure, unaltered affection rushing through him.

Izuku whined again, softer this time, frown deepening. Any longer like this, and the boy would probably wake up.

That shook Toshinori from his stupor, and he relented, “Okay, it’s okay, shhhh… scoot over, come on…”

It didn’t take much convincing anymore. Izuku let himself be pushed aside slightly, grip around his mentor’s wrist loosening as he subconsciously got aware that his will was being granted.

Toshinori had to be careful, getting his tall frame into the too small bed without waking Izuku up completely, but finally, he managed.

As soon as he lay down on the mattress, Izuku pushed into his personal space again, mumbling all the while, eyes still closed. Like a cat, the boy snuggled against Toshinori’s chest, twisting and turning until he managed to hide his face in the crook of the man’s neck, arms wrapped around him tightly.

Obviously content with this, Izuku sighed and relaxed again, making a content sound in the back of his throat.

Chuckling softly, Toshinori tested the waters by carding on hand through the green mop of hair. As Izuku let out a sound resembling a purr and snuggled even closer, the chuckle turned into a soft laugh, and the former hero dared to wrap his arms around the boy.

“Good thing you’re not awake right now,” he whispered to Izuku, getting a drawn-out hum in answer. “You would probably die of embarrassment.”

Another hum, and Izuku mumbled sleepily, “Five more minutes…”

Biting back a loud laugh, Toshinori agreed, “At least five more.”

Maybe even ten minutes, the former hero thought as he watched his boy with fond amusement. Twelve minutes top.

Oh yes. Toshinori really liked those early mornings.

Like if you think good fanfictions are real art and just as valuable as published books

I’m tryna prove a point to my dad because he’s genuinely curious and didn’t really understand the concept of fanfiction.

Also feel free to leave a few arguments for that, I’m out of ideas of how I could prove to him that fanfictions can be just as thought through and well written as published books.

Thanks! <3

Title: Arduous
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Spencer Reid x Reader
Warnings: None
Notes: Thank you to the lovely @emmcfrxst for beta reading this for me. ♥

Originally posted by dr-spencer-reid-though

You had never before encountered someone who was so difficult to date, prior to meeting Dr. Spencer Reid. You had chatted with him a few times, being that the two of you frequented the same book store, before finally mustering up the courage to ask him out. He had looked so stunned that you were certain that he was going to decline your offer, thus ruining your habit of sharing interesting little conversations with him. Instead, he choked on his coffee a bit, then stammered out a timorous acceptance of your invitation.

Generally, the initial task of asking the person out is the most difficult part of dating. However, dating Spencer turned out to be a bit more complicated than that.

After you sat alone at the restaurant for nearly an hour after the time you were supposed to meet, you accepted that the supposedly sweet, handsome man had stood you up. You ate your dinner alone, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, nursing a glass of wine as you questioned what it was that had made him change his mind. Did he get asked out by someone else – someone more attractive? Did he only say yes in the first place to be nice, rather than just outright shutting you down? Did he just eventually decide that he had no desire to go on a date with you?

Ultimately, none of that mattered. You returned home that night with a sinking, sorrowful feeling enclosing around every aspect of your being, and tried to tell yourself that it was his loss. When, in reality, you felt that it was more so yours.

Keep reading

Steph’s Masterlist


-The Reid Twins: A Criminal Minds AU-


Season 12 One Shots

Not Fair

Get Him Out

Tell Me Not to Worry

Ready to Go Home?

Like He Never Left


Miscellaneous Criminal Minds One Shots

47 Minutes (Spencer x Reader)

Mine’s Better (Spencer x OC)

Just Like Her (Spencer x OC)

I’ll Crawl Home to Her (Hotch x Hayley)

The Hardest Job in the World (JJ x Will)

The Wrong Girl (BAU x OC)


Multi-Fics

The Knights of Kwantiko (Medieval AU)

Diary of a Mad Genius (Prison Reid)WIP

2

work

Number four. Had this on repeat. More of Niall & Teyana can be found here.

**edit: there’s a little extra/follow-up addition to this - ‘unfinished business’ - which you can read here.

Teyana’s flushed from cheekbone to chest because Niall won’t stop looking at her.

“Stop it,” she breathes, working her fingers deep into the pastry dough she’s been kneading, a craving for something sweet having wracked her brain all afternoon. It’s evening now, just a bit after six, and she hasn’t even thought about dinner yet, getting lost in a parade of dessert recipes on Pinterest before finally settling on one that piqued her interest best. Priorities.

“Stop what?” Niall asks, from his perch on the counter against the wall to her right. His tone is nonchalant, edging towards playful, likely from the smile that Teyana can’t see at the moment but is almost certain is curving his lips.

“I thought you were supposed to be working,” Teyana quips, as she turns her head and catches his eyes on her again before they flit back to the legal pad in Niall’s hands. His pen scratches at the page as he visibly tries his best to play coy, but his smile, like always, gives him away.

Keep reading