yes i know something is one word


Word Count: 1600 ish

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: The reader finds out that she’s pregnant and has to find a way to tell Sam.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy. Brief mention of depression (like, literally one sentence). Angst. I think that’s all, but forgive me if it’s not.

A/N: Yes, I know that this is quite a common trope, but I just couldn’t help myself :) Enjoy my rendition of Sam finding out that you’re pregnant!


It was hard to put into words how you had felt for the past few weeks. Extreme fatigue and nausea had been keeping you sidelined from hunting for too long now. You felt off, almost as if there was something that was completely changed within you.

Of course Sam and Dean picked up on your behavior change. After being their roommates and hunting partners for almost three years now, they were used to your normal and abnormal mannerisms. Dean never vocalized it to you, but he thought you were experiencing side effects of depression. You never ruled that out - after all of the horrors you had seen, you were sure that it was a possibility.

Sam on the other hand, was very vocal about his thoughts that you were physically sick. He had seen you at your rock-bottom worst, and he thought that this time it was different.

The relationship you had with Dean was brotherly. You teased one another, fought one another, but ultimately, loved each other unconditionally. He was family to you.

In contrast to Dean, Sam was not so brotherly. You felt a spark when you were around Sam - you had never felt so loved when Sam was around. The way he would pull you in for an embrace kiss the top of your head was more emotionally charged than just a friend would do.

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A Letter From Dean

Originally posted by findyourownhappyending

Summary/Author Note: I think most of us get down about something sometimes. Whether that be work or school, relationships, friends & family, or even just how sometimes we aren’t very nice to ourselves. If something’s been bothering you, let Dean Winchester remind you exactly what he thinks of you…

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 900ish

Warnings: one little F bomb

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You asked me if
I like purple and
you know the way
you can tell someone
likes something just 
by the way they ask the

So I said yes, I love purple,
even though my parents 
hate it and really I only own
one purple shirt, 

and you told me you love it
but not light colors, only 
darks, and never violet.

So lately I’ve been dreaming
in purple and it’s been so dark
that I can never find you.

—  And I’m still looking.
The Call

Here’s part two in “Chances”

Read “The Letter”

Words: 966

You were sitting in the living room of your apartment when a strange number called your phone. You normally didn’t answer numbers you didn’t know, but something made you pick it up, “Hello?”

           “Y/N?” a male voice asked. The voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place who it belonged to.

           “Yes? Who is this?” you asked.

           “You’re probably not going to believe me when I tell you,” he said.

           “Try me,” you said.

           “Jensen Ackles,” he said.

           You scoffed, “Right. Nice try. Who are you, really?”

           He sighed, “I really am Jensen Ackles. I got your letter.”

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Do you know how long fanfiction really is?

You know when you are just casually scrolling down Archive of Our Own, looking for a longer fic and you see one with 100-250k words and your like “yes finally some good, light reading!” 

Let me just help you understand something (Using HP as a reference as thats my fave books):

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone - 76,944 words
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - 85,141 words
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - 107,253 words
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - 190,637 words
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - 257,045 words
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - 168,923
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Approximately 198,227,

Translate into some good Larry-fanfics:

Escapade146,112 words (5 chapters)
As You Are: 139,331 words (14 chapters
I don’t want to need you: 231,421 words (28 chapters)
Relief next to me: 271,512 words (23/25 chapters) 
Wear it like a crown: 141,303 words (13 chapters) 


Also if you thought you didn’t like to read but started to read fanfiction because they were “shorter” and now realize that you have been reading more than you thought then haha jokes on you! 

My Everything (Requested!)

@eli-howlter – “this isn’t really a story idea but maybe something with dnp as children, something about them growing up together and their friendship :)”   

yes, yes yes. I am doing this.

Summary: Dan gets bullied by kids on the playground, and a protective Phil steps in, creating the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Years later, they are best friends, share clothes, share secrets, and know everything about the other. Dan has pent up feelings for Phil that he just can’t hide anymore.

Genres: Fluffy! Slight smut? A bit Angst! Childhood AU, Friends To Lovers  

Pairing: Danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil

Word Count: 2,946

Warning: Some swear words, slight smut, and offensive terms!

A/N: One of my lovely besties Eli wanted me to write a childhood!phan fanfic and I mean, how could I say no to that? I’m making this one a bit longer than my usual so I hope you enjoy it!! :) I’m having dnp 2 years apart in age bc it works better for the story. Let’s pretend Phil was held back a year. also: I’m writing this where dnp are going to American school so I’m having them be in elementary school in the beginning! Ok enjoy!


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its a given that jack and bitty are going to be the biggest power couple in the world now that brad and angelina are out of the way but i feel like?? they’ll also be so intriguing to everyone?? like theyre so different. jacks a hockey player who wears yellow sneakers and bitty probably has a different walk in closet for each designer he wears. like they’ll go to a movie premiere or something and they’ll be asked “who are you wearing” and bitty will be like “oh yes, ralph lauren and giorgio armani collaborated to make this one of a kind suit tailored exactly to me, and these cufflinks are made from real diamond and gold and my hair was styled by god himself” and jack will be like “oh idk i got this suit from ross like a year ago haha” and bitty will just close his eyes and shake his head and walk away and jack will just follow him without a word. no one knows how their relationship works. theyre gonna be so great.

Coffee? (Soulmate!AU)

Requested: yes | “Soulmate!Jimin imagine where the first words you hear your soulmate say are located on your wrist?”

Type: AU

Pairing(s): Soulmate!Jimin x Reader

Summary: You just wanted to tell your friend a bad joke and have some coffee

A/N: i had a lot of fun writing this; this one’s gender neutral

Word count: 741

You had always wanted to know what it meant. It had been on your wrist since you could remember, and no one knew why the words “That wasn’t even funny” were written on your skin. When you were asked about it, you’d reply with “something I wrote for fun”, not really having an explanation to give.

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Home is Where the Heart is

Prompt: Riley moves to London and Lucas gives her something to remember him by. []

Word Count: 2088

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Have you made your decision?” Auggie asks.

“Yes, please don’t try and talk me out of it..” Topanga has a look of emotional pain written all over her face.

“We won’t,” Riley says even though her heart is breaking.

“We know better,” Cory adds with a smile. He truly would follow her anywhere. “You’ve always done what’s best for us, so we do this one for you.”

“I want to take the job in London,” Topanga can barely get the words out. Riley feels like her world is falling apart but she tries to keep it together for her mothers sake, she knew this wouldn’t have been an easy decision to make.

“So we move to London,” Cory says in the same soft tone he had spoken in before.

“Together,” Riley nods as she gives her younger brothers hand a squeeze.

Maya was present for Topanga’s announcement and had slept over at Riley’s to cry all night. The brunette tries to compose herself, she had to be strong for Maya, for her mother, for Auggie and for herself.

Riley couldn’t bear four individual conversations having to relive the sad truth over and over; she was leaving. So, the following day at school she plans to tell the rest of her friends in one go. Rip the bandaid off. But this bandaid felt like it was apart of her skin and removing it felt impossible.

Riley asks them all to meet her in the hole at school. They knew Riley’s mother was considering the job offer but none of them truly believed Topanga would take it and especially with the informal place Riley asked to meet they all assumed she was staying. They were wrong.

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Kiss Me & Don’t Let Go [A Stucky One Shot].

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Look, I’m sorry. I’m in love with these two dorks. This idea has been knocking around for a while and I know it’s been brought up all over, so I thought I’d have a crack at writing something like this! 

Pairing: Stucky.

Warnings: None. I think there’s like one swear word. 

Disclaimer: I own no one. This fic, however, is mine. 

P.S: This has been edited, but forgive me for any slip ups. Also, I’m just gonna tag the usual lovely people (I really hope you don’t mind…), @stevestuckyonbucky, @undiscl0sed-desir3s, @mcuofstucky and @whydouwantaname

“Two guys ahead, two behind,” Steve muttered to Bucky, who was walking beside him, as they exited the subway station.

“You take the first two; I’ll take the ones behind?” Bucky suggested, keeping his eyes locked on the scene in front of him, watching the hustle and bustle of the city.

“No,” Steve replied, shaking his head, “we’re undercover. It’ll give us away. Too many civilians.”

Bucky’s hand clenched around the gun hidden in his pocket, as he muttered, “we’re gonna be spotted sooner or later.”

“I know,” Steve said, then impulsively, thinking back to something that had happened to him a while back, he pulled Bucky against him, so that the brunette was pressing Steve against the wall.

“…Steve, what the –?”

But the blond silenced his best friend, by cupping the back of his head and pressing his lips against Bucky’s. At first, Bucky stood there, rigid and rooted to the spot, but when Steve’s eyes closed and a soft sigh left his lips, his brain kicked itself into motion. Slowly, but surely, he began to kiss Steve back, pushing his body firmly against the blond’s, caging him in against the wall.

A small noise left Steve’s lips, a fucking whine, as Bucky swiped his tongue across his lips, demanding entrance. Sighing blissfully, Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, running one hand through his short, soft brown hair, and let his lips fall open, Bucky’s tongue dancing with his own. Steve had never been kissed like this before.

Bucky used his jaw, adding all the force and power he could into the kiss, sucking Steve’s lips slowly and teasingly, tasting his mouth, dominating the kiss so effortlessly. The blond couldn’t help the small moan that crawled up his throat, when Bucky bit his bottom lip.

Steve felt like he was learning to breathe again, like he’d never been fully alive before this, like the touch of Bucky’s lips was giving him life, energy, light, almost as if he was burning up like a gleaming star. It was both breathing taking and giving, maddening and electrifying, and he never wanted it to end. But all too soon, they had to pull back, and Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s, catching his breath.

They hadn’t even noticed the enemy pass.

“Is that somethin’ you learned from Nat?” Bucky teased, “public displays of affection make people uncomfortable?”

Steve blushed, biting his reddened bottom lip, “doesn’t compare to you though.”

Bucky grinned, kissing Steve’s lips again, softly this time, murmuring, “good, because I’ve been wantin’ to do that for over seventy years.”

“Love you, Bucky,” Steve mumbled, melting against him, burying his face in the brunette’s neck, and just like that the Captain America persona was gone, “sorry it took us so long.”

Bucky chuckled, “doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”

Steve smiled at him, eyes shining, making Bucky’s heart melt, “yes we are.”

“C'mon punk,” Bucky grinned, wrapping his flesh arm around Steve, “the sooner we get this job over, the sooner I can take ya out.”

“You gonna win me over with ya dance moves?” Steve teased, grinning, then sincerely said, “‘coz, there’s no need to. You’ve got me already.”

Bucky smiled, kissing Steve’s lips again, quickly and gently, “just wanna make ya feel loved, baby.”

At the word, ‘baby’, Steve practically melted into a puddle of goo. Blushing, the blond nodded and the two continued out of the subway, into the light of the city.

But just before they got to the street’s level, Bucky laced his fingers with Steve’s, squeezing gently, whispering for only his ears, “I love you too, Stevie.”

OTP Questions: Berena


Who has the most embarrassing taste in music?

Serena doesn’t quite know what’s worse: the fact that Bernie knows all the words to ‘Yes sir, I can boogie’ or that she’s still adamant that it was sung by Tina Turner.

Who collects something unusual?

They’re halfway through boxing up Bernie’s flat when Serena discovers them: a row of little metal poles, curled into hooks on one side, most silver-grey others copper-brown but all gleaming like a set of polished medals. Serena hesitates for a moment, unsure if she should call Bernie or close the door and pretend that it’d never happened. The decision is made by her own fingertip, extending to the largest hook, on the far right. She strokes up the length of smooth, cold metal, aluminium, she guesses.

The first clue she gets to Bernie’s creeping up behind her is the shadow, covering the gold line of reflected sunlight in black silutette. “Tent pegs, from when I was out in the field. As a medic, you’re usually one of the last ones there. Took a tent peg home by accident first time, the habit stuck.” Slightly pink, Serena turns around to face her, “More original than medals, I suppose.” It wasn’t Bernie’s smile that suprised her but the way it crept up on her, practically melting into place,

“There are those, yes. Some of the men I served with kept little jars of sand but I had a feeling it’d only be too long until one of her kids knocked it over. And these - I don’t know, these just seem a bit more- mine, if that makes sense?”

Serena nodded. Seconds later, thier lips touched. Hours and the rest of the furniture was packed neatly in shapie’d cardboard boxes. They never really spoke about the tent pegs again. Yet, when Bernie came back to them, God-knows how many weeks later, she found each other tied up with delicate brown string and on that, a label: '2000, Bosnia’, '2007, Iraq’, '2014, Afghanistan’, '2016 Afghanistan’ that’s when she realised there was one more, a smaller peg, vaguely familiar, like it’d anchor down a two man tent, three at most and on it, in the same swirling font as the others: '2017, new forest, Home, soider’

Who takes the longest to get ready?

On the rare occasions that Bernie is coaxed into staying in bed, she sometimes watches Serena get ready through hazy, half-open eyes. It’s mesmerising, seeing her expertly brush and blend, straightening a bit here but not there, just enough lipstick in that shade of pink that makes the rest of her face radiate. The look of concentration, Bernie is certain she’d find the same one had she been twirling a brush against a canvas or tying up a bleed. It’s not unheard of for her to fall asleep like that, softly smiling in her golden bubble of vanilla perfume and Serena’s voice, whisper-singing a welcome to the new day.

Can’t Buy Love (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A/N: For the anon that asked for something spicier with Bruce this is not it! I’m still writing that but it should be done soon c: This one doesn’t have the happiest ending for V-Day, just a lil change of pace~ ♥

Word Count: 832

“Master Bruce, you have-”

“-Bruce!” I roared as I powered through Wayne Manor to make my way to the study.

“… A visitor. I tried to slow her down but I now know the power of a woman on a mission; I’m afraid you’re in for an earful.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred. Don’t think you’re off the hook either, I’ve got my own words for you.”

“Yes, miss,” he spoke nervously before pleasantly bowing out of the room, closing the door behind him. I didn’t miss the fleeting look of him wishing Bruce good luck before he left.

“Y/N, how can I help you?”

“You can turn the charm off, Bruce, it won’t work. You need to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“I brought all the gifts you sent me, they’re in the car. You can return them whenever you please.

“And why would I do that?”

“Fine, then keep them; the choice is yours. Just stop what you’re doing.

“I’ve never seen gifts make someone so angry.”

I shrugged casually. “I’m not angry at all, just annoyed.”

“Because I want to send you gifts for Valentine’s Day? I thought that was customary.”

“The more you try to play games here the more annoyed I’ll become, and then I’ll really be angry.”

He smiled to himself and leaned back against his giant desk, placing his hands comfortably in the pockets of his navy blue slacks. “I didn’t think what I was doing was wrong in any way, Y/N. My apologies.”

“Really? Sending me a gift every day so far this week? Did you think I wouldn’t pay attention to what they were, what they represented?” I looked at him incredulously as my heart had a faint ache. “Why are you doing this?”

Finally his face went serious, probably after sensing my mood falling sullen. “I miss you.”

I shook my head. “Gifts aren’t going to correct anything, not gonna make me unsee or magically forget, Bruce.”

“I know.”

“So what, you want to hurt me some more?”

“That’s the very last thing I want to do and you know that, Y/N.”

“Then why are you making me relive those memories with you? Sending me a bottle of the wine we had on our first date, the perfume you liked me to wear…”

“I think you deserve those things.”

“No, Bruce, what I deserve is to be allowed to move on. What I deserve is to carry on with my life without you throwing reminders of you in my face, as if it isn’t hard enough already.”

“If it’s hard maybe that’s for a reason…”

“Absolutely! Because I loved you! Because every moment of my life was spent thinking about you and wanting to build something with you- That doesn’t just fade away, Bruce!”

“I was stupid not to tell you.”

“Yes, you most certainly were.”

“You have to understand I thought I was keeping you safe, Y/N. I couldn’t think of one good reason to tell you-”

“-I don’t know, maybe because we were in a relationship? I thought that’s what people did, you tell me your secrets, you tell me everything that keeps you up at night, good or bad. You definitely don’t live a second life as some masked vigilante, putting your life on the line and not tell your partner about it. What if something serious were to happen to you? What if you got hurt or arrested or… I don’t know what! What, were you just gonna lie your way out of that, too?”

“If lying meant protecting you, I’d do it again.”

“Yeah? Well lying also meant the end of us. Was that worth it?” I stared him in the eye and watched him struggle internally, while his face remained still as stone. He looked down at his feet before looking into the fireplace.

“No. Of course not. I want nothing more than to have you back in my life, back here in the manor, but… “

“You can’t have everything you want, Bruce. I know you don’t hear that often but that is the cold hard truth.”

He nodded. “I know. But I can’t give up the mask, Y/N. Not yet.”

With a sigh I positioned myself upright and began to make my exit. “And it’s not my job to stay ready and waiting until you can.” As I opened the study door to leave, I looked at him over my shoulder. “I’ll have Alfred get the gifts from my car.” I gave him one final glance after a long pause. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bruce…”

He nodded curtly and gave me half a charming smile. “We’ve had happier…”

I smiled back before turning to leave him with his thoughts, and before I stared into those eyes a moment longer and allowed myself to fall back into old patterns. While I have no intention of waiting for Bruce to give up the mask, I knew I wouldn’t be moving on any time soon…

"I want to have a baby with you." *Michael Clifford*

*Y/N’s pov*

Michael had been acting different lately. You couldn’t point out what it was but you clearly could tell that something was off. It was either him randomly confessing which baby names he likes or him randomly buying a little stuffed lion, saying that it would be perfect for if you were pregnant for your son or daughter to play with. And things got even weirder when you couldn’t find your pill pack.

“Michael?!” you yelled loudly. “Yes?!” “Do you happen to know where I put my pill pack?!” “Uh, no? Why?” “Because I can’t find it…" “Nevermind, I’ll just take another one!” The second those words left your mouth, Michael appeared in the doorway of the bathroom with furrowed eyebrows. “You have more pill packs?” “Uh-yes, in case I lose-” “Where is that other pill pack?” “In our bedroom, top drawer of the nightstand but Micha-” He had already rushed out and it left you all confused.

“Nope, it’s uh not in there,” Michael says casually as he walks back inside the bathroom. “Huh? What do you mean? It must be in there. Let me have a look,” you mutter but Michael quickly blocks the passageway. “I just checked it. It’s not in there.” “Michael, that’s impossible.”

You watch him swallow deeply and fiddle with his fingers. He’s once again acting weird. This is it. You’ve had enough. “Baby, it’s not impossible that you lost this second pill pack as well. I mean, you’re a very chaotic person…” You let out a long sigh and looked up at him again. “Okay, Michael, what’s going on?” “What do you mean?” “Lately, you’ve been acting different and now you’re lying. My pills are in that drawer for sure because I bought new ones a week ago. I definitely put them in the topdrawer so what’s going on?” “I-It’s nothing… What makes you think that?” “Michael. I know you. I can tell when you’re lying or hiding something, so please, tell me about it? You’ll feel better-” “I want to have a baby with you,” he blurts out. His cheeks turn red and he looks down at the floor.

“Y-you want what?” “I want to have a baby… with you.” “M-Michael-” “Y/N, I think I’m ready to be a dad and I know that you’ll be a great mum, so why not skip taking the pill today?“ Michael asks with pink cheeks. Instead of replying, you press your lips against his and passionately kiss him.

"Is that a ‘yes’?" Michael grins and you immediately nod confirming. "I want to have a baby with you too, Mikey.” “You don’t know how happy you’re making me feel right now,” he comments and reattaches his lips to yours.

My Top 9 Fics of 2016

I was tagged by @envydean thank you xx

This isn’t in any specific order!

  1. Breathless - (1113 words) I loved this one because it was just super fluffy and who doesn’t love writing fluff? And supportive!dean is one of my fave things ever.
  2. I’ve Got You - (879 words) This will probably always be one of my favourite fics. I don’t even know why. I guess it was something that I for some reason I could imagined so easily and therefore it was even easier to write. I am also a fan of angst with a sprinkle of fluff so maybe that’s why.
  3. Distractions (1444 words) I love jock!dean getting teased by his friends because he’s going out with Cas. And I love runner!cas so yes, this was very fun to write!
  4. Paint (2000 words) Again, more angst. I love vulnerable!cas and Dean turning on his “friends” to help him. I also loved writing their fluffy future!
  5. Tell Me That I’m Right (1514 words) The quotes and title of this was actually based off one of my favourite songs by Whitaker. Serioulsy listen to it. Anyways, I loved writing Dean still being so desperate for Cas even after all these years. And Cas sort of crumbling into his arms asdfghjkl
  6. Photo Booth (1036 words) So much fluff and seriously can Dean and Cas please just go into a photo booth and take pictures? In canon? PLEASE? Yeah, this was really fun to write.
  7. Pain (2230 words) I don’t know why I do this to myself. It was painful to write but also really fun to show different parts of their domestic life.
  8. The Full Experience (1333 words) Dean, who is older by a few years, taking Cas to prom. FLUFFFFFF. I always love when Cas has a crush on Dean who is a little bit older and doesn’t think Dean likes him back BUT THEN HE DOES.
  9. Drunk Phone Call (2636 words) More angst ahhhh. This was fun to write and I don’t know why. I’m so horrible. Why do I do this to them? My poor bbys.

I tag: @wanderingcas @blissfulcastiel @hunterangelkisses & @all-i-need-is-destiel

Don’t feel obliged :)

Fresh Start - Making Amends

A/N: Part 17 of the Fresh Start series, my mechanic!Dean x Single mom!Reader AU. After this, there will be one more part before a time jump. There are still a few parts left, but we’re nearing an end. I love this series, and the feedback i’m getting on this means more to me than you’ll ever know (i’m in a sentimental mood:p). Anyway.. Happy reading all. Oh, and thanks again to my beautiful beta @thorne93  

Characters: Dean x Reader, Beth, Balthazar.

Warnings: Wee bit of angst, but mostly fluff.

Wordcount: 2135

*not my GIF*

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came to mind. Dean Winchester was falling in love with you, what do you respond to something like that? Did you feel the same way? Hell yes. That’s probably one of the reasons you were freaking out. You had realized when you lay awake in your bed that you were not only falling in love with him, but in fact you were completely in love with Dean, you loved him.

This thing between the two of you had moved so fast, and it was scary how much you felt for him after so little time. But didn’t that mean it was real? That it was something to hold on to?

You were so confused. You came here to end things with him, to spare him the trouble with your own drama. Now all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him and never let him go. You stared long and hard into those emerald greens of his, trying to find some words to offer him.

He was so sure he had pushed too hard. He didn’t get any reaction from you at all, except for an unreadable facial expression and more tears that stained your cheek. He had to fight himself not to wrap his arms around you, he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sweetheart?” He chanced with a soft voice.

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The idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and even though I’ve never really written fanfiction, it just wouldn’t leave me alone so I wrote it.  And no one will probably read this, but I didn’t just write 2.5k words to not post it on the inernet (yes you heard that right).  So, if by some magic you do read this, I would really love to know what you think!  It’s Stiles and Lydia, about that nights where Stiles come to see Lydia because he thinks there’s something supernatural.  So I hope you like it (or read it i guess)

The Boy Who Cried Supernatural

The first time it happens, Lydia’s sure she’s dreaming. Because there’s no way- no fricking way- that Stiles Stilinski is standing over her bed, whispering her name so softly “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia” over and over again like a prayer. But Lydia blinks twice, long and hard and reaches without thinking, slowly reaches her hand out to lightly touch his cheek. It’s real and solid and there, and immediacy recoils her hand, a sharp contrast to her previous movements. Lydia’s sense of wonder is almost immediacy replaced by annoyance. 

“What are you doing her” she groans, still half-asleep. She rolls her head to the side, glancing at her alarm clock, “At 2:30 in the morning?”

“I found something,” he says, his voice anxious. The anxiety in his voices wakes her up. It’s 2:30 in the morning and he’s fully awake, and hell, that has to count for something right? 

“What?” She asks, sitting up, slightly terrified. She realizes that her pajamas are slight generous in a certain area on her chest. His gaze shifts for a moment, then back to her face. 

“Something…supernatural” he says, and then quickly corrects, “at least I think it’s supernatural. I need you and you’re all knowing banshee powers to tell me if it is or not”. 

“My banshee powers are not all knowing,” she grumbles, “Look away”. She looks back and he’s dutifully shut his eyes. She climbs out of bed and quickly slips on the nearest dress because of course Lydia Martin sleeps in her underwear. She cautiously looks back (his eyes are still closed, and he’s absentmindedly playing with his car keys) and she slips on the nearest pair of boots and grabs a jacket. 

“You can open them now,” and his eyes snap open. The car keys stop. His gives her a quick once over. 

“Let’s go,” he nods and they make their way to Stiles’ jeep. 


They’re riding in the jeep, stiles’ eyes darting back and forth, even though there’s no one in the road. The right hand is on the wheel, the left absentmindedly tap tap tapping on his left leg while his right one shakes. Lydia slightly smiles. Stiles can never sit still even for a second. She glances out the car, and catches her reflection in the rearview mirror. She pauses for a second, a realization striking her. This is the first time she’s ever been around Stiles without makeup on. 

“Stop it,” Stiles says, as though he’s reading her mind, “you look beauti-fine. You look fine.” Lydia turns away so he won’t see the blush that’s threatening to form on her face. 


The reach the “something supernatural” that Stiles was referring to, a clearing in the middle of the woods. There’s rock forming a perfect circle, and maybe it’s just because it’s 2:30, no 3:00 in the morning, but it looks creepy to Lydia too and she can see and sense Stiles’ worry. 

“How did you find this?” She whispers, touching on one of the rocks. 

“I…uh…” and now he looks embarrassed, and now he’s starting blushing and she realizes there’s only one way that he found something this isolated in the middle of the woods. 

“Do you patrol the woods?” she asks, and it sounds disbelieving but of course, she believes it, of course this idiot boy patrols the woods, looking out for the supernatural. 

“I…erhm…yes?” She laughs, and then the moment turns serious. She walks to the middle of the clearing and sits down. She closes her eyes, waiting. She doesn’t understand how this whole beacon for the supernatural, probably never will but it she sits still, clears her mind, and hopes to whatever god(s) might or might not be out there, usually something will come to her. 

So she sits and waits. And she waits. She can feel Stiles’ impatience radiation off of him in streams. 

“Well?” He asks impatiently, after silence that to his nervous mind was probably an eternity. 

“Nothing,” she says, almost relieved. 

“Nothing?” He asks in disbelief, “but the…the rocks…they…” he spins out pointing, “There has to be,” he whispers, and she senses urgency in his voice even though she doesn’t realize know why. 

“There’s not,” she says comfortingly, “I promise, Stiles. Now can you take me home? I would like to actually get some sleep tonight." 

She starts walking back to the car, and he follows her after a minute, but she notices that he keeps looking back at the forest, at the clearing. 


The second time it happens, a week later, she comes to a lot quicker. There’s no doubt, and there’s definitely no touching although there is a lot of groaning (from Lydia).  

"I think I found something,” he says, pacing the floor of her room. She glances at him skeptically, but she knows he’s not going away anytime soon, so she makes him look away, slips on acceptable clothing, and wordlessly walks to the car. 

“Let’s go,” she calls up to him. He’s still standing in her room, as if in a daze. He snaps too, and almost jumps following her to the car. 

The weird flickering street lamp turns out to be just that, a weird flickering street lamp. She tries not to notice the obvious disappointment that’s so clearly written all over his face. Why would he be disappointed? She puts that in the category of things to be dealt with later. She’s been doing that a lot these days. 


The third through tenth time he comes, she starts to get annoyed. He’s getting more desperate now, she can tell, even if she doesn’t understand why. 

It’s the flicker of the possibility of the supernatural that he overhears from his father’s walky talky one night (or many nights), or the weird behavior that their English teacher is exhibiting during class (“because you can never be too careful after what happened last time, can you Lydia?”).  Each time he’s more panicked, more frantic.  Each time he needs it to be real; she can sense that, even if she can’t sense anything supernatural anywhere he takes her.  


The fourteenth time it happens, she finally asks him.  

“Why Stiles?” she asks, after the leave another failure, a grocery store, where the people going in and out of the back room just a little too much in Stiles’ opinion.  The worst of it?  Spoiled milk. Which is nasty, Lydia thought mentally, but not supernasty (she’s been spending too much time with Stiles to think of a lame ass pun like that), “Why do you keep dragging me all over Beacon Hills?”  They get in his car, and he starts driving.  Right hand on the wheel, left on his left knee, taping, right leg shaking up and down.  

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and Lydia shoots him a scathing look, “I don’t!” he screams in her face, and he looks immediately taken aback, “I don’t,” he says quietly, and it looks like he’s given up, “It’s just…we’ve been through so much.  One supernatural threat after another for the last four years and all of a sudden everything’s all well and dandy.  Well I don’t buy it Lydia!  Everything’s not well and dandy and you can’t tell me that there’s not another supernatural threat out there, waiting to attack us!  You can’t!”

“You’re right,” Lydia says quietly.  He looks at her, shocked, as if he never expected her to agree with it, “We have been though a lot, and there’s nothing wrong with being vigilant.  But…”

“But what?” Stiles says quickly, almost snapping but not quite.  

“But, Stiles, sometimes seeing patterns when they’re not there is not a good thing,” she says, as gently as she can.  

“So what, you think I’m crazy?” he says, definitely snapping this time.  Lydia licks her lips, takes a deep breath.  

“No,” she says, slowly, carefully, “I think you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he replies, not looking at her face, not meeting her eyes.  

“Sometimes the future is less scary than the supernatural,” Lydia says, giving him a meaningful look. They’re in Lydia’s driveway by this point, stopped, but the engine’s still running, the only break in the silence that forms.  Lydia knows Stiles doesn’t want to talk to anyone about this, much less her, so she does the only thing she knows she can do, leaves.

“Goodnight, Stiles” she says, slamming the car door behind her.


Lydia talks to Scott and Malia the very next day.

“Stiles has been coming to visit me almost every night,” she blurts out.  Scott’s eyebrows raise, and a slow grin starts to form on his face.  

“Well, Lydia, I can’t say this is unexpected,” he starts but Lydia cuts him off.

“Not like that,” she whispers forcefully, hitting him on the arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to know that she’s annoyed, “He’s been dragging my ass out of bed to look at things he think are supernatural every night for the past two weeks!”  Scott groans.  

“I know,” Scott says, and Lydia shoots him a patented Lydia glare.

“You know?” she growls.

“Who do you think he came to before you?” Scott asks, and Lydia feels a pain of guilt that she wasn’t his first choice, but she suppresses it before she can even fully register it, “I said no, of course, and since I’m not exactly a beacon of the supernatural myself, he wasn’t too interested in me.  I think he actually just stopped by on his way to your house,” and he says this as if he knows about the pain in her stomach that just dissipated when he spoke.  

“What do I do about it?” she asks desperately.  Malia, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up.

“Have you found anything supernatural?” she asks.  

“No, of course not,” Lydia shakes her head.  

“What if…you did,” Malia said, “Not anything serious or ‘end of the world’ variety like we usually deal with, but something small,” she adds quickly.  

“A small supernatural problem?” Lydia snorts, “Malia that’s…not actually half bad,” Lydia considers thoughtfully.  

“No way,” Scott says instantly, “There’s no way I’m tricking Stiles.”

“You won’t be,” Lydia says, “I will.”


He comes the next night, just like he has all the others.  There’s a little more spring in her step as he leads her to tonight’s destination…the hospital.  

He leads her to an empty room.  

“They were treating a girl in here,” he says, “They recovered her from a lake.  She almost drowned…but somehow she didn’t.  It was a miracle.”  The word “miracle” sounds like a disease when he speaks it and she looks at him.

“So what do you think it is?” she asks, “Mermaids?  Sirens?” It’s a joking that Lydia’s not used to making, but she’s trying to get rid of the permanent frown that has taken up residence on his face.

“Maybe,” he says quietly. Lydia moves over to bed, smoothing it down before taking a seat.  She closes her eyes.  She frowns. She can hear Stiles’ breathing get faster.

“What?” he asks sharply, “Lydia what?  What it is? What do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” she says, her eyes still closed, “But I think that there definitely could be something here.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles says, and then mimics her, “’I think that there definitely could be something here’. Bullshit, Lydia.”  Lydia’s eyes shoot open the first time he says bullshit, and she licks her lips.  She’s trying to find the words, to say “no I’m telling the truth” but she doesn’t want to lie to him and she’s sure it’s written all over her face.  

“I’m sorry,” she says. She looks down, opens her mouth, but he cuts her off again.

“Fuck Lydia,” he says, “You don’t have to pretend to spare my feelings okay?  I’m not some kid, okay?”

“Stiles-“ she starts.

“You know how I knew you were lying?” he’s yelling now, and it hurts, but she’s a big girl, and she can sit there and take it, “Because it only took you five fucking seconds to come to a conclusion.  If you thought there was something there, you would sit there and make sure because you wouldn’t want to play me like that.  Because you’d want to be sure because you’re always so careful and meticulous about things like this.  So next time you try to screw me over, at least make it convincing!” She stares at the ground.  She doesn’t know what to say.  Finally, she looks up and all the anger has disappeared from his body.  Now, he just looks sad.  

“Stiles-“ she starts again, but he cuts her off.

“C’mon let’s just go,” he says.  They don’t talk the whole ride home.  Lydia was sure that he was going to leave her there in the hospital for a moment there, but he didn’t.  And he wouldn’t, a little voice in her brain says.

His driving habits are the way they usually are, right hand on the wheel, left on his left knee, taping, his right leg shaking and Lydia wonders how many other people notice his driving habits.  Or how many other people know about her habits as well as Stiles.  

Sometimes she wondered if anybody else knows her as well as Stiles does.  But tonight, she knows that he does.  


He leaves her alone for a week after that, but he eventually comes back for the sixteenth time.  

“Lydia,” he says, but this time his voice sounds different.  She resists opening her eyes for as long as possible.  

“What are you, the boy who cried supernatural?” she replies, trying to sound annoyed, but she can’t resist smiling.  She can almost see his face crinkling up to a smile, and sure enough, when she opens her eyes, it’s there.

“Something like that,” he says, almost wistfully.

“Stiles,” she says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you.”  The last week, they’d been speaking less and she knew it was because of this sudden weight that had come between them because of last week.  And she missed him.  It surprised her how much at first.  When she walked into school and he didn’t meet her the first day that feeling in the depth of her stomach had returned and taken up permanent residence there.

“I know,” he said, “And I know you did it for the right reason, but Lydia,” she looks at him and he looks at her, “Don’t ever lie to me about this again.  Please Lydia-“ and his voice is desperate now, just like it’s been desperate for the last two weeks, there’s been too much desperate lately, and Lydia is sick of it.

“I won’t,” she promises and he looks at her and he knows that she believes him.  Then the silence hangs there for a minute.  

“Let’s go.”  And she gets up out of bed this time without protesting because she knows he needs this, and she’s here for him, she will always be here for him.  

Because this is their little routine right now, they’re Stiles and Lydia, he’s the human who shouldn’t know better but does, that human who always figured it out, the one who is attracted to the supernatural, and she’s the supernatural.

So they go off into the night, like vigilantes, the boy and the banshee, the girl and the boy who cried supernatural, saving the world from a threat that doesn’t exist.  

Some Trivia about Phichit’s Name

Not sure if anybody has already done this but, well, here I am telling you some fact about the meaning of Phichit’s name anyway. Mostly because I am at leisure now and want to do something to contribute to the fandom too. And sadly, yes, I can’t draw. //cry //cry again

Phichit basically means victor.

In Thailand, people are named using mostly Sanskrit and Pali words, borrowed from the two core tongues of Buddhism and other Indian beliefs, some of you might know that already.

One can anticipate that the language borrower would not (or could not) retain many elements of the borrowed languages. Definitely, the word “Pichit” is a “thaiaized” form of Sanskrit “VIJITA,” composing of

  • the prefix VI-, used to mark distinction/separation,
  • the root JI, “to win, to conquer,”
  • and the suffix -TA, used to mark the participle form of the root JI (similar to English’s –ED: watch > watched, and German’s –T: machen “to make” > gemacht “made”)

Thus, VIJITA, “won, subdued, conquered” then, “those who has already conquered,” and even “victory”.

In modern usage, the word PHICHIT is mostly used as a verb, meaning “to conquer”. Let’s say, William the Conqueror is translated into Thai as “William-phu-phichit,” that is, “William who conquers”. So, only in a person’s name does the word PICHIT earn its part as a noun: “conqueror”.  

So, that’s all about it. Phichit basically means victor. 

Many people know that, in fiction, a character’s name can be somehow of great significance. Like, it can convey a message or make distinct some quality of the person. I’m not sure if this show made use of the name in this manner as well, or probably the producer just randomly picked up those names. I’ve got not a clue so far but, well, who knows.

Jaspar Advent Calender 2016 II Jaspar fanfiction

- Masterlist of all my stories -

Yes, so maybe some of you guessed it, I’m doing vlogmas this year I have decided to post a Jaspar advent calendar!

I can’t promise I’ll manage to get 24 stories up, but I’ll try my best! Some of these are one-shots, some of these are shorter stories spread over several chapters. I will post about 500 - 1000 words per chapter (which is less than I usually post, I am aware of that)

This will be a random mixture of not necessarily christmassy stuff, there will be a bit of fluff, but, because it’s me, mainly angst and (light) smut!

Day 1: Set Me Ablaze Pt I

Five times Joe got aroused by something Caspar did and one time he got caught.

Requested by@jasparsguardianangel

Keep reading

Under The Influence

EMMA:  Regina! Regina!

REGINA:  Emma, you’re inebriated.

EMMA:  I am not ah-vee-biated!  I’m drunk.

REGINA:  (bites inside of cheek to keep from chuckling)  Yes.  I dare say you are.  But WHY are you?

EMMA:  I think Hook might have put something in my drink. You know, to mega-fy (hiccups) the power of them.  

REGINA:  (angry frown)   I believe he has. Even drunk you wouldn’t be messing up words this badly.  Where is that sea-scum?

EMMA:  Out cold! I punched him out.  I saw you walking by and told Ruby to call one of my deputies to pick him up.

REGINA:  I’m sure he’ll try to sweet talk his way back into your good graces.  The man is repugnant.

EMMA:  Oh it doesn’t matter.  We’re through.  Finished.  Over.

REGINA:  Oh? Well that’s…

EMMA:  Kaput. Done.  Sayonara.

REGINA:  I get it, Miss Swan.  (witnesses Emma’s eyes rake down her body and back up so she inspects her own clothes as well)  What?

EMMA:  You’re hot! (hiccups)

REGINA:  (startled) Excuse me?

EMMA:  (fans self) It’s hot out here.  Aren’t you hot?  You’re making me hot.

REGINA:  I… (frowns) … You do mean temperature hot, right? I mean…

EMMA:  Yes and no. I mean you’re making me really horny, Regina, and I want to (hiccups) off take my clothes because I’m suddenly hot.  (begins unbuttoning her thin sweater)

REGINA:  (eyes bug out)   Emma! You will not “off take” any clothes out here! (looks around)  What the hell did that imbecile put in your drink?

EMMA:  (throws arms around Regina’s waist and hugs her)  Truth serum for all I know, because I am feeling very truthful right now. (hiccup)  I love you, Regina.

REGINA:  (face flushes and a smile forms on her lips)  I see.  

EMMA:  Shhhh! (puts a finger to Regina’s lips and not her own)  Do you feel that?  

REGINA:  (holds Emma’s finger away but embraces Emma back)  Feel what?

EMMA:  (clings to Regina)  The rotation of the Earth.

REGINA:  (clears her throat, unlocks their embrace and pulls Emma’s arm around her shoulder)  I am not going to hold any of this against you, Emma.  You are drunk and possibly drugged.  (She holds Emma up as they walk a few steps.)  When I get my hands on that foul, despicable, loathsome…

EMMA:  Regina… Regina… Hey!  You wanna know what rhymes with inebritated

REGINA:  (shakes head and chuckles)  I shudder to ask.  What?

EMMA:  Sex.

REGINA:  (stops abruptly, raises an eyebrow and peers into the woman’s face and eyes her very close lips, sighs)  Damn it.

EMMA:  (as they continue walking)  Don’t you want to have sex with me?

REGINA:  (carefully stares at the ground and groans in frustration)  We had better get you home and into bed, Emma.

EMMA:  Now that is what I am talking about!

REGINA:  (shakes her head)  To sleep!

EMMA:  I disagree. I think you should take me back to your house and put me in your bed.

REGINA:  (another frustrated groan, mumbles under her breath)  I’m going to KILL that hook-handed moron.

EMMA:  Why? He’s in jail.

REGINA:  Because he’s slipped you something and I am being inadvertently teased!

EMMA:  I’m NOT teasing. Take me home and I’ll prove it.  I will totally taste your “forbidden fruit”.  I like fruit.  I think I’d really like your fruit, Regina. I’ve dreamt about it before.  Did you know?  All warm and juicy and…

REGINA:  HOME! I’m taking you to your home.

EMMA:  Aww, boo!

(They walk in silence a few steps embracing and swaying.)

EMMA:  Hey… Regina?

REGINA:  Yes, Emma.“

EMMA:  Once we get to my place and before you put me to bed.  If you want to take all my clothes off, I’m totally down for that.

REGINA:  (snorts and shakes her head)  Good to know.

EMMA:  I’ve got nice smooth fruit.

REGINA:  (frustrated groan, mutters)  Cripple him and then kill him.


Read Scene 2

Read Scene 3

Read Scene 4

Photos provided by beegoddess

Teen Sis, Huh?

One shot: Yes

Request: Yes

Can I request a raph x reader where she’s Casey Jones’s teenage sister? She lives with him and one night after hanging with her friends she gets home and sees him and raph arguing about something stupid? She didn’t know about the turtles. When she sees him she isn’t freaked out and she’s just in awe over him and how huge he is.

Requester: Anon

Turtle version: Tmnt 2014/2016

Word count: 932


“Hey (Y/n), you sure you don’t want to stay the night with the rest of us?” (F/n) said worriedly, “It’s getting kinda dark out.”

(Y/n) shook her head, “Nah, I’m good. I’ve got things I have to do tomorrow, plus Casey might get pissy since I didn’t run it by him first.”

“Okay,” (F/n) smiled, “just be careful k?”

“Of course, text me later?”


“Bye (Y/n)!” (F/n2) said.

“Bye guys!”

And thus (Y/n) started her trek home, thankfully it wasn’t too far from (F/n)’s house. She was in her apartment building’s elevator before she knew it. She reached her floor and waked to her and her older brothers shared apartment. She could hear voices inside.

“No Raph, I know for a fact that a sweet potato is a yam!“ She recognized that voice, it was her brother.

‘Well Casey isn’t wrong for once! Wait whose Raph?’ She thought, raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name.

“Then why is it called a potato?!” Another voice, a deep one at that. A voice that she had never heard before.

‘Well, I guess that’s Raph.’ She thought, shrugging and grabbing her keys out of her bag. ‘And now I get to meet him.’ She unlocked the door and walked into her apartment. Straight into the strangest situation she been in thus far.

“What the…” There, in her living room, was her older brother wearing an apron. Sweet potato in hand, yelling at what appeared to be a massive, six-foot five-inch tall, humanoid turtle, who was also wearing an apron. A pin frilly apron, with a heart with the writing kiss the cook in cursive font. She could not tear her eyes away from the humongous talking turtle as he continued to argue with Casey, who had thrown the sweet potato at him, not noticing her entrance. She noticed as he spoke that he was the voice she had heard from the hall.

‘Holy shit! That’s Raph? He’s as big as the empire state building! look at those plus one biceps, I mean hot damn!’ She still couldn’t move, her face beginning to flush at her own thoughts. ‘Ok, (Y/n) Jones! Time to stop being a complete perv towards the giant ass turtle man in your house that could literally pick you up with one arm and throw you out the window!’

It was that moment that Casey let out a girly shriek, “AH! (Y/n)! When did you get home?!” His voice cracked lie he was a prepubescent teenage boy instead of fully grown corrections officer.

Raphael, however, almost choked on his spit. His best friends’ little sister just walked through her door to see his scary ass in her kitchen. He waited for the screams to start, starting to crumple in upon himself, but they never came.

“Wow,” (Y/n) said, still staring. “Casey, who is this? Whats going on?” (Y/n) and Raph made eye contact, neither of them broke it until Raph looked away blushing.

‘Why isn’t she screaming?’ He thought, ‘I can handle screaming! This staring is fuckin’ weird!’

“Well (Y/n),” Casey began, still not breaking the girls stares. “This is my friend Raphael. He’s well seventeen, ya know around your age. And, umm, a giant mutant turtle!”

“Yeah,” she mumbled in astonishment. “I can see that…” She walked towards Raph, amazed, and held out her hand. “Im (Y/n), it’s nice to meet you. Fuck you’re massive!”

Both Raphael and Casey were shell-shocked at the girl’s reaction. Casey snapped out of it quickly and frantically motioned to Raph to do something. And that’s what he did, he took her hand, careful not to crush it. “Raphael, friends call me Raph. It’s nice to meet you (Y/n).” He smiled, moving the tooth pick to the other side of his mouth.

(Y/n) began to blush, ‘Hot, hot, hot, hothothothothot! Too hot! Shit!’

Casey recognised the look on his baby sisters face and started chuckling. ‘I know that look Miss Jones! (Y/n) and Raph sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!’ He wiggled his eyebrows, trying to telepathically communicate with (Y/n) but failed, obviously. He decided to talk to her after Raph left, feeling like a smug mofo.

Raph decided that now was the time to leave and let (Y/n) process the information of his existence and escape her stares because he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. She was too cute! ‘Caseys gonna kill me!’ He thought shaking his head.

“Well I’m gonna head home,” Raphael nodded. “Later man, you too (Y/n).”

“Later!” Casey gave Raph his smug little grin, seeing the look in his eyes. ‘Future brother-in-law,’ he added in his head like a giddy school girl.

“Bye…” (Y/n) added, waving as Raph jumped out the window.



“So (Y/n), what was that fawning about? Does someone have a crushy-wushy on her big brothers’ best friend?” He mocked

“Shut up Casey!” She shouted.

“Aww, so cute!” He pinched her cheeks

“I said. Shut! Up!” She was the color of the turtle she had just mets’ mask.

“(Y/n) and Raph sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Casey shouted, jumping around.

“That it!” (Y/n) chased Casey around the apartment until they got a noise complaint.



Casey texted Raphael later that night…

Idiot: So when r u gonna take my baby sis out on a date?

Hot head: Casey. Fuck off.

Idiot: Imma take that as Friday at 7, my apartment.

Idiot: I’ll rent u guys a movie and go hang with April

Hot Head: …

Idiot: BTW break her heart and you die

Hot Head: Understood…