#i will be back on my angsty shit soon though sorry folks Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[starrywangxian]

i think one of the reasons why wangxian's love is so powerful and strong is because wei wuxian is a romantic at heart but believes he isn't deserving of love and lan wangji is also a romantic but believes he doesn't love enough so when you put them together you get this sappy romantic and unconditional love because they are each other's safe spaces. they are helping each other heal and they are unlearning their trauma together.

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour four!!!!! this one is angsty, folks! strap in! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 1k

prologue / hour 3 << pt. 5 -- hour 4 >> hour 5

For a moment, he swears he's back there. Back when everything was simple for you two.

༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟒 ·:*¨༺

"Right," Remus squeezes out, "I do remember that." 

"Yeah. It was a good night."

He laughs humorlessly, "I got so wasted that night. Don't remember half of it. Shit, all I remember is you and then throwing up for about an hour the morning after."

Part of you glows. He remembered you.

"Yeah, you were... fucked up that night."

'You looked so pretty that night,' He wants to say—he can't. In the back of his mind, he's intrigued by you. He wants to know you—know you the way Sirius does. Sirius knew so much about you. He knew about your dreams and your biggest accomplishments, knew of your fears and your failures. And Remus Lupin, in some twisted way, was jealous of Sirius Black.

"You were in the flat that morning, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I stayed with you guys 'cos my flatmate was being a raging bitch."

He nods, "Right."

He remembers seeing you—your hair was a mess as you ate your cereal, and you waved at him with your spoon, wearing a bright smile.

"I was so happy to see you were still alive," Your face wrinkles with a smile, and you shine brighter than the sun.

'What a cute smile,' His brain taunts him.

"I was happy I was alive. Though, after hurling that much, I felt like death." He laughs.

You join him, "I bet. You looked deathly."

He smirks, "More than usual?"

You break into laughter as you remember one of your many insults thrown at him.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"You look like death, as per usual," You drunkenly slurred at him. Then you squint, eyes meeting his neck, "Are those fucking hickeys?" You'd messily pulled at his collar, "They are! Wow! Remus Lupin, everybody!" You hollered in the crowded bar, "Absolute man whore!"

He stared at you vindictively, "Oh, shut up!" He had yelled.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember arguing with him more, and Sirius had intervened at one point. You were yelling profanities at Remus as Sirius dragged you away.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You sigh, "That was a horrible night."

"Your makeup was all smudged."

You snort, "I was making out with some douche."

"And I was the man whore."

You fall into fits of laughter; he soon joins you, "That was a horrid night. I went home with this guy and..." He rubs his hands over his face, "Ugh. He was just a shitbag."

You frown, "Sorry. That sucks."

"Eh," he shrugs, "It's whatever."

You're both silent for a moment, basking in the feeling of... not hating one another.

Remus leans against the wall and sinks into a seated position, "I'm really fucking tired."

He sounds exhausted, and you would say you're not sure where it's coming from, but the reality is, you've been stuck in this elevator with him for four hours, and it's tiring. You collapse next to him. Your knees touch, and it sends sparks up your thigh and through your ribcage, settling in your heart.

"And my joints hurt," He adds.

You gawp for a second, and then you nod, "Right. I forgot."

His movement is sharp as he jerks his head in your direction, "What?" He snaps.

"Hm? Are we back to hating each other?"

"You forgot about what?"

You cock your head, confused, "You have chronic pain. No?"

"I—" Remus is torn. Should he tell you? There's the chance you'll make fun of him for it, but then it hits him that you already know. You know he's chronically ill, and you haven't said anything about it, "Yeah. I have to use a cane sometimes."

"Mhm," You nod, "You've got that one with all the stickers on it."

"I've had that one for years—got it in our fifth year as a present from... everyone," He smiles, and it's so warm that you feel yourself melting into him.

You're both quiet for what feels like hours. It was about two minutes.

"You know, after that night, I always wondered what was wrong with me." You say quietly.

"What?"

"I mean..." Your tone is soft and laced with hurt, "Why don't you like me, Remus? Tell me, full stop."

He shakes his head, "I don't think you want to know."

"I do!" You insist, "I really want to know."

He throws his arms up, "Why the fuck do you care?!"

You're taken aback. It's not the first time Remus has yelled at you, but it somehow hurts the same as it did the first time. This damn lift was making you go crazy.

"Because!" You scream back, "Because I want you to like me!"

"But why?" He groans.

"Because— because I don't think you're all that bad. I see the way you interact with our friends. You're so kind with them. Why am I the exception? What is so wrong with me?"

Remus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, "You're full of yourself. That's why."

"Bullshit!" You yell, "That's complete and utter bullshit, Remus. And we both know it." 

He rolls his eyes, "See? It's this kind of shit. You wanted to know, so I told you. Now you're complaining like a baby. Honestly, I'm not even sure why my friends put up with you."

Insecurity floods your body, filling up every crack and crevice of your being. 

'My friends.' His—not yours, not ours, his.

It hits you hard, and you go silent. You always felt like an outsider in their group—they'd all known each other since they were kids, and you suddenly appear with Sirius, and they all think you're his latest feat. But you keep coming around, and you've convinced yourself they hate you—that they hate you, and Remus is the only one to actually say something.

"Honestly," he continues, "I'm pretty sure they only put up with you because of Sirius. He'd raved about you. Saying you're talented, intelligent, funny. What a fucking shame that none of it was true."

He's not thinking straight, and he doesn't even realize he's said something so insulting and hurtful until your chest sinks in, and your face contorts into an expression of pain. He's cut you open and, not even a second later, has rubbed salt into the wound.

"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.

GUYS IM SORRY (lying)

lmk if u wanna b tagged!

@queerpumpkinnn @ay0nha @knaveism @whennyxfallsinlove @freezing-my-brain @starlit-epiphany @inkluvs @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @starsval @little-snow @bubybubsters @zvdvdlvr @venzami-burst @rosalyn-s @ttulipwritezz @fate-posts @sparky--bunny @severegiantjudgefriend @secretdazeobservation @violetteshoneybee

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

more voiceless jaskier AU

https://bygodstillam.tumblr.com/post/613282643525697536/okay-so-i-have-written-800ish-words-ofApparently the middle of the night is when I write this. Though to be fair “the middle of the night” is also just when I’m awake right now.

Reminder that this is entirely self-indulgent, which means people will be giving in to their hearts even when in canon the almost certainly wouldn't. :)

Still pretty angsty, but we're starting to inch towards the soft comfort part of this h/c!

(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

------------------

The second night after finding himself voiceless, Jaskier ate.

Geralt had tried, most of the day, to talk to fill the silences. He'd failed horribly, the silences were still long and painful, but the attempt was not lost on Jaskier, and it was enough to melt him out of the petrified, empty shock that had consumed him the night before. Their progress away from the lake had been in the opposite direction of Rinde, even though it was the closest place to go for news or supplies. Jaskier couldn't help but be glad - if he never saw that town or the lake again, he'd be grateful.

"If we keep making good time, we should reach the next village in three days or so," Geralt was saying as Jaskier picked at the dried venison stew, wishing he hadn't emptied his flask already days ago. Or that they didn't have to make good time, so he could put off carrying his lute as long as possible in the mornings and take it off (and carefully, so carefully, set it down a safe distance away from the fire) as soon as possible in the evenings.

There was a slight shift of movement in the corner of Jaskier's vision, where Geralt sat, and a subtle glance revealed that Geralt was failing to hide that he kept glancing over at Jaskier, not eating, with a concerned frown. Jaskier lifted the spoon and took a bite. It wasn't too bad, and... well, to be honest now that he'd forced himself to take a bite, he was pretty hungry. A few bites later and the frown had settled back into the usual one, directed into the fire.

Laying in his bedroll that night, Jaskier didn't cry, to his great relief. That wouldn't last, he could tell, but he stared up at the shadows of leaves and branches over the sky, the peek of stars between them in the breeze, and thought about what happened, and didn't cry.

He couldn't remember the entire course of events that led to the djinn's attack on his throat - he'd been a lot more drunk than he would like to admit, burned from being dumped by his most recent lady love, his attempts to flirt ignored by Geralt, and he just felt lonely. He remembered needling Geralt, who was clearly in a worse mood than usual, and doing so beyond what he normally would've. Prodding him until he lashed out, and then taking it too personally. It was fuzzy, but he remembered Geralt shouting that he just wanted a little peace, and then pain, and--

And Geralt's face, immediately panicked by what was happening. Whatever he'd been feeling, he hadn't wanted Jaskier hurt, or dying.

And really, when you thought about it, Jaskier had known, even drunk, that Geralt was exhausted and more volatile than usual. For one of his more obnoxiously annoying drunk idiot mistakes, the fact that he was still here, alive, was more than he'd generally hoped for throughout his adult life. He'd always sort of assumed one day he'd piss off the wrong person and die to that. He'd done it, but then that person had done their best to save him anyway, and succeeded. It was a second lease on life, even if the near-death had never been Geralt's intention.

Maybe that's how he could get through this, learn to live with this silence: by viewing it as a kind of gift.

The third night, Geralt was restless and grumpy. He still hadn't quite given up attempting to fill silences, but had clearly found it even harder than the day before. In desperation, he'd started singing some folk song, and Jaskier had gotten lightheaded and couldn't breathe, and it was stupid because other people singing shouldn't make him feel like he was being crushed to death by his own chest, and after he'd gotten back under control, sitting in the dirt of the road, Geralt had all but forced him to ride Roach the rest of the afternoon.

The whole thing had put Geralt off of speaking, apparently; either that or he was running out of whatever fuel he used to create speech at all, because to Jaskier's ear it sounded like he was forcing the words out with every ounce of willpower he had, when he spoke.

"I'll fix it," Geralt grumbled. Jaskier nodded in response, then shrugged. Oh, he was hoping beyond hope Geralt could find an answer, and soon, but he was still trying to cling to his thought from the night before, that this was the cost of a second chance. Not because of Geralt, nothing to do with Geralt, but because fate herself was trying to tell Jaskier not to be so much of an ass. Geralt frowned deeply at that response.

"It's important," he insisted. "I will fix it. It was my wish, it's my responsibility." And Jaskier knew he didn't mean it like that, like the only reason he cared was because he felt obligated, because you couldn't spend large chunks of over a decade with a man and fall in love with him and not be able to pick out when he truly cares about someone or something. Jaskier knew that Geralt cared, that was why he'd gone to find him in the first place, that day: if nothing else he was lonely and needed to be around someone who gave a shit.

It still felt like a knife twisting in his chest, and his lips twisted in a weak attempt at a smile and waved Geralt off. It wasn't very believable, but he didn't want Geralt to feel obligated.

"It's not fine," Geralt snapped, more or less accurately translating from Jaskier's vague gesturing. But to answer that no, it wasn't, but the idea of obligation made him feel ill? That no, it wasn't fine, but at least he was alive? Jaskier couldn't figure out how to explain that silently without writing, and the only paper he had was his journal. His songwriting journal, the most recent of many, half-full with notes and ideas and scraps of lyrics and the working drafts of his songs. No, he couldn't bring himself to use it for this. So instead he just spread his hands helplessly.

Geralt grumbled wordlessly and stood. "Stay here." He strode into the trees, and Jaskier was left sitting by the fire wondering if Geralt was going to just go scream into the trees or try to find a bear to wrestle with his bare hands or something. That could make a good song, the bear wrestling, but Jaskier shook his head to try to clear that thought from it. Maybe, if Geralt couldn't find some sort of magic that can undo this, he could write again one day anyway. But not yet.

Geralt came all but stomping back into the clearing after a few minutes and jerked his head for Jaskier to follow. Not having anything better to do, Jaskier went.

A few yards through the brush was another small clearing, not big enough for a camp, but with a large flat area of loose slightly damp earth, not so loose as to be sandy, that had clearly been brushed free of leaves and sticks. Jaskier frowned, and turned to ask-- no, to look confused at Geralt, but found a sturdy but narrow stick held out to him.

"Write," said Geralt. "If you need to."

Jaskier swallowed hard, fighting tears despite himself. Geralt's response to Jaskier being unable to communicate a clear thought was to find a way for him to express it, and if Jaskier hadn't already fallen in love with the witcher years ago, he would have now. He nodded and crouched, considering the space he had and the words he wanted to say.

Thought my mouth kill me 1 day, he wrote carefully in the dirt, cutting out words he didn't need, grimacing a bit at his mangling of language. It couldn't be helped, but it wasn't fun. Least not dead? Good.

"It wasn't your-- it was my fault," Geralt said, clearly frustrated. "I was an ass." And yes, it was technically Geralt's fault, in that it was his wish that caused this. If he wanted to, Jaskier could blame him. Part of him wanted to. Most of him thought Geralt wanted him to. But really, Jaskier couldn't find it in him to be angry at Geralt. Not when he saw Geralt's face when he couldn't breathe, heard the panic in his voice demanding someone tell him where to find a sorcerer to fix it.

Jaskier smoothed the earth, tamped it down a bit with his foot. Not intentional. He paused, then underlined it. He could faintly hear Geralt make a displeased noise, and added, Didn't know you had wishes.

There was a moment's pause, then Geralt said softly, "And yet, here we are."

Jaskier couldn't think of anything to say to that, not that he could fathom writing in the dirt, so he just reached over to pat Geralt's arm, in comfort or reassurance or forgiveness? He wasn't sure. Geralt just frowned deeper and sighed. Jaskier didn't like that frown. It was a sad frown, a guilty frown, one that made him think Geralt was internally flogging himself over something he hadn't tried or intended to do.

Not. Your. Fault. Jaskier wrote, after smoothing the ground again. Rather be alive. Other people maybe let me die. But not you. Better.

Geralt put his hand on Jaskier's, stilling his scrawling in the dirt before he can try to add more. "I'm still going to fix it," he said. There was a long pause as Geralt fell silent again, and Jaskier itched to write more, to fill the silence with even the idea of his words, but he could see more words trying to order themselves in Geralt's mouth, and he didn't want to spook Geralt into not saying them.

"I'm sorry, Jaskier," Geralt said, eventually, almost too soft to hear. He cleared his throat and continued a little louder. "You're not a pie with no filling. Not you, not your singing. I was... I wanted you to go away, stop telling me the truth about how I was avoiding the real problem." Jaskier knew, he did, that it had been a cruel barb meant to try to get him to storm off in a huff. But it had still hurt, and it still soothed some little wound in his heart to hear it. "When I was trying to save you," Geralt continued, "I kept thinking I couldn't let that be the last thing I said to you."

Jaskier couldn't help but laugh, though it was just a brief, silent huff of air and shake of his shoulders. The last thing he remembered Geralt saying to him that night was some nonsense about apple juice. He didn't point that out, even in writing, because really, that wouldn't have been much better, and also because he knew that wasn't what Geralt meant.

He couldn't let the last thing he'd said to Jaskier before they were in crisis mode, the last thing he'd said that he'd remember later, be something cruel.

Thanks, Jaskier wrote. Appreciate you tried.

"Wasn't good enough," Geralt rumbled under his breath, but he looked at least slightly less like he wanted to throw himself into a lake as penance, and Jaskier would take that. He smiled up at Geralt, weak but at least sincere, because it did mean a lot to him, that Geralt was that desperate to try to save him, and was this torn up by his failure to save all of him.

"Well," Geralt said, apparently uncomfortable with the implied forgiveness Jaskier kept offering, "do you need anything?"

A voice? Jaskier thought, his smile fading and his shoulders drooping slightly. An identity that isn't built around my words? The ability to undo everything I did to provoke you? But nothing Geralt could actually give him came to mind, so instead he shook his head. The light was fading, and they still needed to make supper and eat, so Jaskier pushed himself to his feet and right into Geralt's chest, not having noticed the larger man move so much closer to him. Geralt caught his arm to keep him from losing his balance and then, looking almost uncertain but deeply determined, pulled Jaskier into a hug.

He was trying to be comforting, working off of an uncertain and ill-used script, but doing his best for Jaskier's sake, and Jaskier choked on the tears that tried to well up in his eyes. He would not cry, even though the physical affection and comfort was something he hadn't realized he needed so badly. He just pressed his forehead to Geralt's chest and breathed in the smell of sweat and horse and leather and Geralt, willed himself to not fall apart, and tried to drink in what might be the only chance he'd have to be this close to the man he loved more than reason itself. He couldn't stand it for too long, for all he needed the embrace, and he stepped back with what he hoped was a grateful smile before jerking a thumb back over his shoulder toward camp and miming eating stew.

"Fine," Geralt said, and started to walk back, pointedly keeping Jaskier in front of him for some reason. "Get settled, supper soon."

Jaskier waited, after supper, for Geralt to fall asleep, or at least lay down silently long enough that Jaskier had to assume he was asleep, before curling in on himself and letting himself cry out all the raw emotions that Geralt's hug had pulled back up. Not the quiet still tears of that very first night but sobs, for the loss of his voice, the loss of his independence (because how would he survive without Geralt at this point, he had no skills to speak of besides music), the loss of the very core of his identity. He felt lost and isolated and the fact that he could sob so hard and the only sound was the faint exhalation of air made everything even worse.

He wasn't sure how long he cried, until it petered out into sniffles and he had to blow his nose a few times into his handkerchief, even if the sniffling didn't stop. He tried to steady his breathing, stop the silent hiccuping breaths that he associated with small children crying themselves sick, and didn't hear the sounds of Geralt getting up and moving until suddenly he felt Geralt laying down behind him on his bedroll, on top of the blankets, an arm slung over his waist. Where the embrace earlier had forced him to fight back tears, this contact - as unexpected and bizarre as it was - settled Jaskier almost immediately, his trembling breaths slowly evening out to match steady rhythm of Geralt's breathing.

He was exhausted, and quickly found himself drifting off to sleep, wondering absently if he wasn't asleep already, to get to feel secure and soothed by Geralt's solid presence at his back.

He definitely imagined, as he let go of that last scraps of consciousness, that he felt lips press against his hair.

(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10)

Now on AO3

[madmadmilk]

where part 3 😏

can’t give ya the whole part cos i’m a late & lazy bitch... but here’s a title teaser for ya until i CAN! enjoy! also pls leave suggestions and stuff thank u

One After The One PART 3 TITLE TEASER | Tom Holland x Reader

Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (COMING SOON!)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom Holland is a Tinder Catch you can’t ignore; you’re totally unprepared and caught off your rhythm, but you’d bend the rules for him. Who wouldn’t? Better still, you’re fueled by the fact that he’s supposedly into you. Though the funny thing is that even after a lovely chat on the beach and an invitation to your loft, he declines. Hello?

Warning: cursing, bad flirting, smutty FEELINGS, angsty character building, and cliffhangers

Word Count: ?K group chats blowing up your phone

-

“So, am I your type?” he asks with ease, with more than a slight smile stretched across his face.

Holy fucking fuck shit god damn.

You just got catfished by Tom Holland.

And even through your shock and disbelief and slight betrayal, you find the strength within you to not completely fall for him on the spot. You won’t give in that easily. He gave you a hard time to even get to this point, so you have to repay the favor.

After smacking your dry lips, you muster a brave smile and give him a pretty look, humming,

“‘Could be worse.”

Tom nearly doubles over in laughter, his eyebrows pinching as he brings a hand to rub his forehead. You watch him as he settles back, relaxing and exhaling puffed cheeks. He gives you a bouncy nod, shrugging,

“Alright. Yeah, I deserve that.”

“Yeah you definitely do––” you say, trying to match his ease. You can’t look at him directly, mumbling a short and friendly, “What the fuck.”

It’s funny. This whole thing. You both know that YOU absolutely think he’s cute–– but it’s not something that needs to be said out loud, or right now. That would just be gratuitous. And you’d like to maintain as much composure as you can in front of him, ‘cos now he surely has the high ground.

The whole, “it would be too easy if I showed my face thing” suddenly made a fuck ton of sense too.

Ha.

The wind blows, and you both notice the tides are pushing in further. You decide to move towards the wooden steps that led to the beach. You and your unexpected Tinder date shuffle and wobble through the loose sand, snickering at each other softly.

What is going on?

-

A/N: and that’s all for now folks. thanks for keeping up with me through my lack of updates!!! i really really really wanna get this out there soon, so keep an eye out. thank you so so much for the support and i’m sorry these are so slow! aahhhhhhhh!!! i’m v frustrated about it but ya know, what can i do. lol pls send some words of encouragement thank u so much

[lokilickedme]

Okay so I promised a bunch of pics from ScotFest 2018, and I’ve been stuck posting from my phone for the last two days so - sorry for the delay, but here we go with the good stuff.  It’s long, but stay with me, you’re gonna enjoy this mad trip.

First, let me say this.

FUUUUUCCCCCCCKK.  I knew I was gonna be having McClary flashbacks the whole time but it started out ridiculous and just got worse as the day went on.

The moment we pulled up the first thing that stepped into view was a dude in an anarchy tee shirt with a kilt and Docs and long black hair strutting down the sidewalk.  If Chem!Tom was Scottish...oh wait a sec, didn’t he say at some point that he was a bit, on his mother’s side?  Works for me.  So anyway, we arrive at ScotFest and walk the long way to the shuttle bus pick-up with a bunch of kilted guys and an elderly couple dressed in ancient clan clothing (they looked awesome).  And before we even get off the bus at the festival grounds, we’re blasted with bagpipe music as a full regalia marching pipe band parades past the entrance.  Something smells REALLY.GOOD. and off to the left of the entrance is a field where two Mol-pups are chasing sheep around while their shepherd whistles commands loud enough to split your head open.  Yep, McClary flashbacks, right off the bat.  And big Scottish athletes are throwing things that don’t look like they were meant to be thrown, though the biggest and most impressive athletes on the field are the females who are using pitchforks to hurl big bags of sand backwards over their shoulders over a bar that’s about 20 feet above their heads.  Big is looking at me like “What the hell, mom??” so I tell him the ancient Scots were farmers and they made games and competitions out of their farm chores.  He’s like “No, I mean why are you breathing so hard?”

No comment.  Did I mention that the females were really impressive?  Good start to the day.

So we move on past the games into the main festival area and everywhere are man-knees.  I’ve never really paid much attention to man-knees before, but to be honest they’re kinda...hot.  I don’t even know why.  And there were so many of them...hundreds and hundreds of man-knees on open display, it’s almost like I shouldn’t be looking but they’re RIGHT THERE all over the damn place and I feel like a pervert scamming peeks.  And calves.  Man calves.  Not normally a fan, but there were some good ones on display.

The first thing we did was hit the tribal music tent and it was over for me before it even got good and started...because on the stage inside the tribal music tent was THIS Scottish god:

Don’t worry, the picture quality will get better.  So we settle in to enjoy the music and this guy is eating up the stage and spanking the shit out of that drum, and then he starts blowing on a flippin’ didgeridoo (yeah, a nine foot long Australian horn, don’t ask me why but omg that man’s lung power was making the ground rumble under our feet and all I could think was how that skill might carry over, if you know what I mean).

Suddenly I’m really interested in nine foot horns.

A really cool thing about hitting the afternoon shows was the fact that you could go right up to the side of the stage and nobody cared.  So I did.

Physically painful, let me tell ya.  I could just almost look up his skirt.

That horn is vibrating the ground where I’m standing and I’m actually relieved when he switches back to the drum because all that vibration has shifted my panties about two inches to the left and it’s getting uncomfortable.  The drum isn’t much better though, and neither is the view from where I’m standing - he’s a big stout bull and I’m three feet away from him while he beats that drum to a whimpering death.  I could reach out and tickle his bare knee if I felt like getting divorced.

So I go back and sit with my guys again and he starts doing this:

KNEES.  I mentioned man-knees before, didn’t I?  Well here, have a pair.  I’ll post a video later of what he did to this poor little drum, and to his own thick neck - because I can’t even describe it, and you know words are my thing.  He played his freaking adam’s apple or something, I don’t even know.

There were actually two other musicians on the stage with him, but I sort of forgot they were there.

There were also lots of adorable father/son kilted combos present - and yep, a bagpiper rounds out the onstage trio.  But again...man knees.  The ones on the left specifically.

So the show ends after a lot of insane drumming, war cries, didgeridoo blowing, bagpiping, and a really nasty little ditty about a girl who’s been touched so much she’s smooth as a stairway bannister (followed by an anthem to an unhealthy relationship that proclaimed “I’d rather be drunk a thousand years than be sober one minute with you”).  Nice, guys.

As soon as their set is over we leave the tent to go wander around, but most everyone else stays because it is as hot as the freaking surface of the sun on this day and the tent is like an oasis on Mars - which means when the band comes out to let the next band hit the stage, we’re pretty much alone outside with the bull and his two stagemates (sorry backup drummer and bagpiper, you guys were awesome and I loved you but didgeridoo guy vibrated my panties two inches to the left, you know how it is).

Anyway, we’re outside at the merch tent and Husband is buying something and I look up and nearly slam bodily into this:

Drummer/didgeridoo guy.  I vaguely recall yelling to Husband during the deafening noise of the show that he looked like Aquaman, and when I end up face to face with him it’s confirmed.  I think it’s the cranky eyebrow.

I also get to ogle the piper’s bagpipes up close and personal, which was hard to do as didgeridoo guy - whose name is CJ - is standing right behind me while I ooh and ahh over this weird thing, and he’s laughing at me for reasons unknown:

Maybe it was the stupid comment I made about squeezing the bag?

And then the three of them pose for a pic:

Goobers.  At this point Little walks up to them and they all sort of huddle around him and start laughing (Little has light-blindness and has to wear special shades outside so he was half blind and I think he rammed right into the guy with the hat), so I hand my phone to Husband and go to get him.  When I get close, didgeridoo guy puts an arm the size of a tree trunk around me and hugs me up next to him while the other two are tickling Little.  Husband starts snapping pics with my phone, but no, I’m not sharing them because 1) my face, 2) Little’s face, 3) shellshock at being touched by this stud ox without having initiated it myself, and 4) the look on my face clearly says MY PANTIES ARE CROOKED AND HIS SWEAT IS SOAKING THROUGH MY SHIRT AND PHEROMONES PEOPLE OMG PHEROMONES I’M IN PAIN HELP I MAY BE PREGNANT

Yeah, he was drenched in sweat from jumping all over that damn stage schlepping a drum that probably weighed more than me.  My hand was on his back and it came away soaked.  You can consider that a euphemism if you want, it works both ways.

Also - red boots.  Urgh.  And then he goes like this:

Boy was solid as a whiskey barrel, let me tell you.  We came back later to listen to another band and he was out there again, and the girls from the face painting tent had lured him over and braided his hair.  He looked flippin cute.  And by cute I mean Jesus Wept.

So before this turns into an exclusive didgeridoo guy fest (too late, yeah I know) let’s move along to this fine specimen that I found at the blacksmith tent:

Ladies and gentlemen, meet King McClary’s work kilt.

Dude was nice from the front too:

Definitely an Auchinleck, for those of you familiar with The McClary Chronicles.  Check out the tattoo.  And he was making maille battle armor, which I got to touch.  It didn’t shift my panties quite as hard as the drums did, but there was definitely a quiver.

This guy was at the tent next door to the armor tent, making I dunno, bong pipes or something and he was hilarious:

And then there was this guy, listening to ballads in the historical folk music tent and looking all angsty and authentic, like his love just died of a fever and his crop failed so he joined a ships’ crew to find his fortune in a faraway land but the damn boat sank fifteen feet from shore and now he’s just fucking stuck in Scotland and contemplating becoming a villain:

And he was glaring at my child, I don’t know why.  Prissy prick.  I was hoping to see his dick but he was so anal he tucked his kilt under his ass from the front.  Definitely a villain.

After a couple of teary ballads about wailing winds and failed crops or whatever, I dunno, I wasn’t listening because I was too involved in trying to see Prissy Prick’s ballsack, we wander over to the Highland Dance competition and walk in on this:

We’re in there for all of about twelve seconds before Big starts giggling, then Little starts giggling, then I start giggling.  We promptly leave the Highland Dance competition tent, because these girls really worked hard and I don’t want to get arrested for being a dick.

We go watch the Mol-pups chase the sheep around, because nobody cares if you disrupt the proceedings in the middle of a field full of sheep.

And then we watch some more of the Highland Games, in which guys threw stuff while making the best faces I’ve seen since that time Husband wanted to try setting the mirror next to the bed:

Yeah, we giggled.

After that we went back to listen to some more music, because damn.  Scottish rock is da bomb.  Heard a punk band that Husband immediately fell in love with, so I guess we’re evensies on the lusting after Scottish musicians thing now:

Dude on the bagpipes grinned like that through the whole set, I think he was puffing something out of one of those tubes.

And then we walked out into the big freaking middle of about four billion of these:

Noisy effers.  And they don’t stop for anybody - we literally had to jump out of the way because when they paused in front of us, they went into this formation thing and backed up right into where we were standing.  Had to grab Little and yank him up off the ground before he was trampled by some dude wearing a dress and giving an octopus a blow job.

Turned to look at a woman sitting next to us a little later and watched her pull a dagger out of her sock and shine it on her kilt like she was getting ready to go assassinate someone in the crowd.  We left soon after, so I didn’t get to see it go down.  I hope it wasn’t the didgeridoo player, he was cute AF.

All in all it was an 11/12 day, marred only by the outrageous heat and the fact that I’ve been off my supplements and medications for a week in prep for surgery on Tuesday, so I was exhausted and my blood’s gone back to being water again.  We didn’t stay as long as we would have otherwise, but we had fun and experienced a lot of weirdness - I ate haggis on accident, Husband sat down with a plate and I thought it was meatloaf (it was good and I didn’t die, so bonus) - and I got to spend the day surrounded by all the clans that tried to assassinate Thomas The Fucking Marauder.

We’ll be going again next year.  Husband is a descendant of one of the border clans, so he’s heavy into this...and of course you all know what my connection is to it :)

Let me leave you with a picture of a guy about to bullrush a scarecrow.  I don’t know why, I didn’t ask.  Scotland’s weird, ya’ll.

[literallyprentissstwin]

Week 7: Monday, June 25th to Sunday, July 1st 2018 

bonjour y´all and welcome back to a new week of my reading list. it´s tuesday when i´m typing this and i already have like 18(!) up until now, so prepare for an ass long list hahah. 

as usual, i picked out my fav stories i read over the week. please don´t be sad if you didn´t make it on the list. it´s just a little sneek of what i read in a week, this is far from everything i read during one week, these are just the fics i loved the most. every writer is unique and awesome in their own way, so shoutout to all of us writers!!! 

i really hope you´ll enjoy the list & don´t forget to leave some love and feedback to the authors! 

- aileen 

1.) Secrets Don´t Deserve Funerals II JJ by @alittlelessthanfandomimagines 

cute perfect ugh. i don´t have any words bc i´m speechless. thank you for adding a new part, i´m in heaven. i love emma´s and jj´s relationship a lot & i really hope spencer gets his sh*** together! great work :) 

2.) Survivor - Chapter 6 & 7 by @docspencerreid 

ugh okay part 6 hurt me so so good and i just love penelope with my whole heart. it´s so so heartbreaking, but so so good. spencer broke my heart as well. and then, part 7...holy shit. why are you doing this to me? like they finally “confessed” their feelings for eachother and then BOOM. i´m crying. can´t wait for the second part :) great job :) 

3.) It Should´ve Been Me by @tenaciousarcadeexpert 

this was a fabulous fic for my challenge :) and wow wow wow my poor heart, i mean who needs a heart anyway? the angst oooooooo god, i was at the edge of my seat. SO.GOOD. i´m beyond speechless. great work & well done! i loved evrey second of it :) 

4.) Petrichor by @dontshootmespence 

cute as fuck. i love when he talks facts and statistics. beautiful, just perfect. my ice cold heart is happy. also RELATIONSHIPGOALS. 

5.) Nightmares by @doctor-daddy-spencer-reid 

this was so beautiful oh my gossshhhh. the emotions, the angst, hurt/comfort = perfectly combined. spencer is such a good boyfriend ugh and you´re so talented, i´m gonna brb crying. 

6.) When We Were Young - Spencer Reid by @playlist-reid 

aw aw are you all trying to kill me with your fics? it´s only tuesday and i already died multiple times (i wrote this part of the list on tuesday hahah). perfect, golden, a must read. 

7.) Later // Spencer Reid by @spencerthepipecleaner  

ANGST OH YES!!!!! but death ugggghhhhh....it´s still so so so good and i loved reading it so so  much! you are all so talented! 

8.) Losing Faith and Family by @alittlelessthanfandomimagines 

this is another fic for my challenge thihi. god this was so good, like you really had me. the angst was def there and i was so sad but then i read the end and ugh awww my heart. great work! 

9.) What are You Doing? (Luke Alvez x Reader) by @dedeimagines 

cute cute cute. adoreable. i love me some good Luke fics and this was a really good one. also Garcia was pretty amazing in it :) well done! 

10.) Drowning by @moonlit-martyr 

masterpiece. i mean it. masterpiece. you are so so talented, this fic was so well written & so good! every emotion was covered. god, so good! 

11.) A Secret Rival by @abcreid 

the end = savage. also i loved how spencer always interrupted her = jealous????? the team was hilarious. great job! 

12.) Sleepless Nights // Spencer Reid by @itsmeedee 

DAD!REID!!!!! *runs around screaming in 20 different languages* this was everything & more. cutenesss overload. though the flashbacks make me sad, please tell me you didn´t kill off the baby´s mom ugh. 

13.) Article of Faith - Chapter 16 & 17 by @dontshootmespence 

aw it´s still so underrated, GO READ THIS SERIES I BEG YOU. okay so part 16: this moment between PG and Pretty Boy was everything. also the relationship between Billiw and Reid makes me happy; they are so cute fml. part 17: he goes to visit the team ugggh. and also the reference to the donuts and when emily came back omg. i like how he continues to support her and how he nevertheless shows interest in what she is doing although he might not like it. such a good bf. i love it so much! great work! 

14.) Chinese Takeout by @inkstainedfanfics 

i loved this fic. it was so so cute and so well written. the end tho :) great work! 

15.) Coffee by @therealtrashhere 

cute cute cute. also, the team was hilarious. can I have someone in my life who also brings me a cup of coffee everyday? maybe spencer himself? thank you! loved it a lot :) 

16.) Number One by @ionlyreadfivebookslastweek 

you had me at angsty. like i´m always there for angst. no matter what. this was so good, like for real. but please don´t fight babes :(((((

17.) Infiltrated: Part 7 by @stunudo 

i think it was beyond time that i add this series to my list. i just needed to do some catching up first, before adding it and let´s just say that this series deserves an award. it only gets better and better from part to part. it sometimes gets confusing but just bc i am so dumb, but it´s so good. go read it! 

18.) question for question by @uncomfie 

you are literally the queen/king of the derek morgan fics. you´re so so good and talented, it hurts. teach me please! i loved it so much ugh. i love a protective derek morgan and i miss him a lot. great work :) 

19.) I´m Sorry by @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo 

this was a fic for my challenge and i loved it so so much. the angst, omg. my heart ugh. aaron boi ugh what are you doing? but seriously, this boy is too precious for this world. he always wants to protect everyone from this cruel world. you can only love him. the end holy shit. i did not expect this. i hate scratch. well done! 

20.) target - part two, three & four by @uncomfie 

ok folks, if you´re looking for a really good series, this is it! recommend 10/10. this is giving me life istg. one of the best angst series i read so far. they are one hell of a couple, i´m in love. it breaks my heart to see derek so devasted and lost and helpless, my poor baby. but the end was making up for everything. the suspense, and angst, i´m in heaven. def gonna reread it soon. go check it out. it´s so good! well done! 

21.) Long Day? (Spencer x Reader) by @ourhappylies 

cute cute cute. i loved the relaxed reactions of the team & how they all already knew. profilers ahahahhaa. also spencer is so cute, it hurts. well done :) 

22.) Broken // Emily Prentiss by @itsmeedee 

this has been an entry for my challenge. i gave you my fav prompt i had on this list and you used it so well. omg you played the ian doyle card. when i read it, i swear my heart stopped for a minute. my heart broke for emily omg, how could you do this to my baby? preach you for an amazing fic. i loved reading it a lot. the end was soo goood! recommend 10/10!!!

23.) Happy Ending by @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo 

cramps are shit, worst part of these special weeks yk. but it was so cute and aww spencer, how are you a genius hahahahhaha. also this convo between emily & Y/N and the sarcasm, i´m loving it. the end was so cute, my heart melted. 

24.) Thalassophobia I Matt Simmons x Reader by @youvebeenwinchesterd 

yes, an amazing matt fic <333 there was a little bit of angst, a lot of suspense and some cute shit at the end. the perfect mix. my emotions were in overload. this was so good. i really liked it. matt is so cute. well done :) 

25.) Please be okay (Spencer Reid x Reader) by @dedeimagines 

angst & fluff = AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. my poor spencie. he´s so scared :(((( but the end turns out to be happy thank god! it was a shorty, but really good !:) 

26.) High School Rom-Com by @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo 

angsty stuff omg. i´ve been blessed this week. the team is so adoreable and caring and comforting omg. also, I loved Luke a lot in this fic. the end made me swoon :)))))

27.) Have It All by @ionlyreadfivebookslastweek 

relationship goals, for real. the reader is so understanding & supportive. caring. this was so freaking cute. i can´t cope. 

28.) Redamancy Pt. 3 by @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo 

i love this tension between Ella and Luke. and i also love penny in this story a lot. also protective luke is my religion. this is so good! 

29.) I Love You >> Spencer Reid by @eideticreid  

wtf this was so freaking cute???? i´m shook. like really. was this even real? i also cried happy tears while reading this. well done! very well written:) 

30.) A Reunion // Aaron Hotchner by @literallyreid 

another fic for my challenge, y´all are blessing me with your talent. okay, this was really good. like really really. i loved reading it a lot. it also made me miss Hotch an extra lot more, but that´s okay. great work :) 

31.) eleven blocks by @uncomfie 

she did it again. another awesome derek fic. why are you so good at this????? i loved reading this a lot. it was perfect ugh. the end was everything! well done :) 

32.) Alive or Not by @abcreid 

and another fic for my challenge yey :) this was so perfectly angst holy hell. the open end, omg really???? btw i think i swear too much but i can´t help myself. oh and btw your english is really good, so don´t worry!!! :) 

33.) Jealousy by @boywondxrreid 

this was so good. i love how blind reid is. the team was so cute and supportive, understanding and caring. also reid at the end, worrying about the reader. but i´m happy everything turned out well :) 

okay, this has been this weeks list! i really hope you liked it! leave some love to the authors and their stories. we´ll see each other again next sunday! have a good week!

- aileen 

[masksandtruths]

Never Normal: Part 2

A/N: This was done for @revwinchester's Y1K Challenge, and in typical “me” fashion, I got a bit long winded. This one isn't going to be a big series, but there will be 2 3 parts, the last of which will explain a few things, including the story behind the reader’s post-it note. Anyway, congrats Rev, and I hope y'all love it!

If you want to catch up: Part 1

Summary: When the Winchesters found Y/N the moment after her world fell apart, she never expected they’d be the ones to help her put it back together--but that’s exactly what they did. From friends, to brothers, to the possibility of something more--their lives together were far from normal, which was exactly how she liked it.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (Romantic) ; Sam Winchester x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Swearing, Fluffy (Sam is such a sweetheart), a tad Angsty (Maybe? If you look really closely?)

Word Count: 2600-ish

A bottle of red wine, a heaping plate of food, and a slice of pie later, and you were ready to pop. “Okay, I’ve got to quit. My jeans are starting to cut off my circulation,” you admitted sadly, sitting your fork on your plate and pushing it away from you.

“Well, you could always take them off.” Dean looked up from the pie he was inhaling, meeting your eyes, a wicked grin lazily turning up one corner of his mouth. Before your brain could form a truly witty and amazing comeback—something other than, “I wish you would,” which was the first thing that popped into your mind—Sam leapt to your defense.

“Jesus, Dean, could you maybe not start with the cheesy pickup lines?”

“Who’s starting what, Sammy? I simply offered a solution to Y/N’s problem.”

You let out a sarcastic snort and rolled your eyes. Sam just leaned back in his chair and gave Dean his best, little brother bitch face—complete with crossed arms, a raised eyebrow, and “you’re so full of shit” practically blinking on his forehead.

“You know what? Screw both of you,” he swore laughingly, shoveling another forkful of pie into his mouth and smiling widely.  “It’s my party, and I’ll do what I want to.”

***

You sent Sam and Dean off to other parts of the bunker to watch a movie or catch up on Game of Thrones or something so you could clean up the aftermath of Dean’s dinner in peace. Half an hour later, you had all the leftovers put away and were just finishing up the dishes when you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

“Hey Y/N, almost done?” Dean asked as he approached.

“Yeah, just about. Just gotta finish drying these bowls and put them away.”

“Need any help?” He was bent over, elbows resting on the counter, looking up at you with a dopey grin, and you felt a very strong—though definitely not unfamiliar—urge to lean down and kiss him. Such a simple thing—a tilt of your head, a press of your lips—and yet, you just couldn’t bring yourself do it. A relationship wasn’t in the cards for you, and you wouldn’t risk your friendship with the boys for a lone night in bed with one of them—even if one of those aforementioned boys happened to be looking extra scrumptious in a certain maroon shirt of his. Nope, you just had to get your hormones under control, maybe find a random dude to take out your pent up sexual frustrations on, and keep pretending you didn’t want to do very un-sister-like things with the man standing right beside you.

“Hello...earth to Y/N?”

“Uh…y-yeah…sure. Here,” you stammered with a jolt, shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts and shoving a bowl towards Dean. “You dry. I’ll put them away.”

He plucked the towel out of your other hand and started working on the job you assigned him. You spun around to put up the bowl you had already dried, and when you turned back, he already had the next one finished and held out towards you.

“Thanks.” You latched your hand around the dish, but Dean didn’t loosen his grip. Your eyes went to his, and you knew immediately he could tell something was up.

“You want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours or am I going to have to play twenty questions?”

“It’s nothing, Dean.” He released the bowl but didn’t drop the subject.

“Uh huh, and I guess you assume that even after living with you for over half a year, I’ll just buy that  answer. You’ve been acting weird all night. What's up?”

Shit. How were you going to get out of this one? It was no secret Sam was good at reading people, but what most folks didn’t realize was that Dean was just as good—hell, maybe better—especially when it came to his family. You feigned confusion, flipping your hand in the air casually, “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have mixed wine and liquor. I think it made me a little loopy.”

“Nice try,” he flipped the towel over his shoulder and took a step towards you, “but I call bullshit again. Want to go for strike three?”

You turned your back to him and reached up to place the bowl he’d handed you on its proper shelf, effectively buying yourself a second to come up with your next answer. A straight up lie didn’t work, but maybe a half-truth would. You sighed and slowly faced him, lifting your y/e/c eyes to meet his concerned, green ones. “You know this is something I used to do with my little sister?" You made a circling motion with your finger. "The whole big fancy birthday dinner thing?”

You watched his expression soften at the mention of your sibling. You rarely mentioned her—or anything about your past life really—so any time you opened up the tiniest bit, they were more than willing to listen.

“No—no I didn’t know that. Shit, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do this for me, Y/N." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and down the underside of his jaw. "I never want to see you hurting. Ever. For any reason. But damned sure not because of me.”

You slowly stuck your hands in your pockets and lifted your shoulders in small shrug. “You didn’t know, Dean. Besides, I wanted to do this for you, and I don’t regret it one bit. There’s just a lot running through my head tonight, that’s all.” You felt the note in your pocket pressed against the palm of your hand, and it sent a wave of comfort through you. You pulled your hands from your pockets and slapped them together like you were dusting something from them.  “Alright, titty baby moment is officially over. Don’t you have a show full of battles, boobs and fire breathing dragons waiting on you in the other room?”

He dropped his head with an amused snort, and you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged up the corners of your mouth. When he lifted his face back up, his amused expression mirrored yours, and it made your breath hitch in your chest. He really was perfect. For a second, neither of you moved, content and happy in each other’s presence—enjoying the warmth of a light-hearted moment and shared smiles.

When the second was up, you stepped forward, intending to brush past him and continue your task of cleaning up the kitchen. But when your right shoulder lined up with his, his arm shot out, blocking your path and halting you in your tracks.

You felt the pressure of his arm across your body first—then the heat of his strong fingers tightly gripping your left hip—and finally, the subtle weight of his gaze. The air in the room suddenly felt thicker. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, silently reminding your lungs and heart that they did, in fact, know how to function properly.

“Y/N?”

Although it was barely above a whisper, the sound of your name falling softly from his lips in that perfectly husky voice of his somehow managed to echo through your entire body, sending a shiver down your spine and a ball of heat to your core. You squeezed your eyes tightly against a flood of images threatening to invade your brain—ones you knew would show you all the beautiful, wonderful, normal things you no longer allowed yourself to daydream about. You blocked them before they ever got the chance to turn into anything other than unfocused and blurry outlines of childish wishes from another lifetime. Before you started confusing “is”s and “never would be”s  with a bunch of “if”s and “maybe it could be”s.  The only thing that did was open you up for heartache and disappointment, and you’d had enough of that to last you until forever.

When you finally forced your eyelids open and met his gaze, you immediately saw the love and hope and numerous unasked questions swimming there in his eyes. You could read everything in them as well as you could read any book sitting on one of the shelves in the other room—and as his continued to search the depths of your own, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could read the emotions in your eyes just as clearly as you had in his. “What?” you breathed.

“What do I need to do here, Y/N? Am I supposed to be your brother or your friend…or…or something else?” he asked softly.  Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting. He didn’t come right out and say it, but you knew from the way he phrased it which answer he was hoping for—and you just needed a minute to process that. Everything in your heart was screaming at you to open your mouth and form the words he wanted, but your brain just couldn’t figure out how that would ultimately end well for either of you…so you stayed silent.

“It’s your choice, sweetheart, and I’ll still be here no matter what you decide. But please, decide soon because I can’t keep doing this back and forth thing. It’s giving me friggin’ whiplash.” When the last word fells from his lips, he released his hold on your hip, pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple, and then quickly moved past you and through the door leading out into the bunker’s garage.

Holy shit balls. You’d told yourself that there was no way he could possibly be interested in you. That he flirted like that with every woman. That he was just protective because he thought of you like a sister. That you were imagining things. Now you realized you’d probably told yourself all that crap because it was much easier to ignore your own feelings if you thought there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell they’d be reciprocated.

***

“Sam!” you yelled. You were still standing there by the sink looking sort of shell shocked when he came barreling into the kitchen seconds later.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, hastily glancing around the space for any sign of what caused the panic he heard in your voice when you called his name.

“Dean…I…” You didn’t know how to start.

“Oh no. What did that shit bag do now? I told him to lay off the booze. Where is he? I swear to—"

“No…No…just stop,” you interrupted. “No, that came out wrong. Everything is just all wompyjawed right now, and I don’t know what to do. And I probably shouldn’t even be talking to you about it. I just don’t know who else to talk to. And you’re like my brother, but he actually is your brother, and—what the fuck.”

“Whoa, slow down, Y/N.” He stepped forward and wrapped you in a big bear hug, squeezing tightly and pinning down the arms you’d just been flailing about wildly. “Just calm down and tell me what happened.”

You inhaled deeply and then loudly blew the breath through your lips before stepping out of his arms and hopping up to sit on the counter. You rested your elbows on your knees and dropped your head, your temples resting between the palms of your hands. Sam waited patiently for you to get your thoughts together. “He told me to decide.”

Sam nodded knowingly, stepping backwards and resting his back on the island counter opposite of where you were sitting. “And what’d you say?”

“Not a fucking thing. I froze. Hell, I didn’t know he felt that way. How did he expect me to take in that little revelation and then give him an answer two seconds later?”

“Because most girls wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Your head shot up. “Well I’m not most girls.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” he said with a snort and a smirk.

You playfully swung your leg out towards him, acting like you were trying to kick him. “Shut up, turd.” You were silent for a minute, lost in your thoughts of Dean and the horribly confusing situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“What’s stopping you?” Sam asked quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t know. Just after everything I’ve learned, I don’t really see how it’d be possible for me to have something as normal as a relationship. I’ve lost too many people in my life already, and if I go down this road with Dean and then lose him, I don’t know if that is something I could survive. Besides, I made a promise to my sister that I’d never be normal anyway, so...I guess this is me keeping that promise.” You shrugged, giving him a sad, half smile.

“Well, let me ask you this…you love me, right?”

“You know I do, Sammy.”

“And you’d be absolutely devastated if something happened to me, right?” he continued with a wink.

“Of course, I would,” you answered dramatically, placing a hand over your heart.

“And you have already let yourself feel that kind of love for my bone headed big brother too?” You nodded your head in agreement. “So then if you’ve already let yourself love us enough for it to hurt if you had to live without us, why not go ahead and dive in head first with Dean? Yeah, it'd suck if you decided to try with him and it didn't work out, but wouldn't spending the rest of your life denying yourself a true shot at happiness suck worse?”

“Ummm…” Sam quirked an eyebrow up at you, and you shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know why I’d never really thought of it that way before.”

“Because you aren’t as smart as me,” he teased. “Now, what’s your next lame ass excuse?”

You rolled your eyes and let out a small chuckle. “Well you're sure handling this well. You seem mighty proud of yourself and not the least bit surprised.”

“Because I’m not. Unlike you two, I figured out a longggg time ago that y’all were made for each other,” he joked. “I’ve been telling him for months to quit being such a pansy and just say something to you about it, but you know as well as I do what a stubborn ass he can be when he sets his mind to it.”

“You ain’t never lied,” you laughed in agreement.

Sam crossed the small space between the two counters, stopping beside you and playfully bumping your shoulder with his. “Seriously though…just go for it, Y/N.”

You dropped your head sideways with a groan, resting it on his shoulder. “What if I screw it up? Or he screws it up? Or we both do? I don’t want to have to walk away from the life I’ve built here with y’all because we couldn't get our shit together,” you admitted quietly.

“You won’t ever have to do that,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Promise.”

“How can you be so sure?” You straightened, lifting your face from its resting spot on his shoulder so you could see him when he answered.

“Because I, for one, think you two idiots belong together and are just hardheaded and contrary enough to make it through anything.” You punched him lightly on the arm for that one. “And because, you’re family now—whether you like it or not—and that means something to us. Sure, we may get crossways sometimes, and things might get a little messy for a while if y’all’s deal happened to go south—but that will never change the fact that this is and will always be your home.”

You twisted your body on the counter so that you could wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him to you tightly. “Thank you, Sammy. I love you.”

He reached up with a giant hand and patted one of the arms you had locked around him. “Love you too, kid,” he chuckled. “Love you too.”

Read Part 3 -->

Tags: @wheresthekillswitch @trexrambling @escabell @arryn-nyxx @pinknerdpanda @deanssweetheart23 @-lovepeacenhope- @dancingalone21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @kathaswings @roxyspearing @shutupiminlooove @donnaintx @ginamsmith @goldenolaf25 @duherica @revwinchester @kbl1313 @hannahindie @emilywritesaboutdean @emmazach @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @winchesterprincessbride @atc74 @avc212 @messy-buns-and-shotguns @sofreddie @triciareh @horsegirly99 @ultimatecin73 @michellethetvaddict @nostalgic-uncertainty @akshi8278

[fanficwriter013]

The Ties That Bind (Part 11/11)

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Summary: Clint makes it his mission to win you over. He succeeds, but you don’t believe in marriage. Can the two of you stay together without the promise of wedding bells in the future? What about when the two of you are forced to go undercover as a married couple?

Word Count: 1615

Warnings: Civil War spoilers, sarcasm, it gets real dark and real angsty. Platonic Tony/Rhodey feels

Author’s Note: The end, and this is all for Kate, @emilyevanston She loves birbs.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 /

It’d taken most of the ride to the drop point for you to convince Clint that you’d be okay going in by yourself. He was reluctant to leave you alone so soon after you had finally been able to communicate again. Especially when he knew that you’d been having some a hard time in your own isolated cell.

“You're not going to lose me, I promise.” You tell him, as you sign ‘I love you.’ He quickly signs it back, before pulling you into him for a deep kiss.

“We're at the drop zone,” Steve calls back, and you separate from Clint. You grab the flying squirrel pack that you're going to use for your jump.

“To be continued.” You say slowly and deliberately so Clint can read your lips, as you sign ‘I love you’ to him again. You turn quickly and run off the end of the deck. It took some fun maneuvering around trees to land just outside detection by Vision. The rest of this was up to you.

You skirted around the outside of the bubble that you knew Vision was able to detect. You needed to get down into the tunnels, but the clock would start ticking the second you got inside. The air was still and quiet until the leaves started to rustle. You turned and found yourself face to mask, with Iron Man.

“Tony, are you in there? I could really use to talk to you. Right here, right now.” You say, and the face mask peels away so you can talk to Tony.

“First, how's Rhodes doing?” You ask, shifting your weight on your feet. Tony shakes his head.

“Cut the crap, (Y/N). Why are you here and why shouldn't I turn you back over to the Raft, right now?” Tony snaps at you, and you'd been pretty prepared for that.

“For one, because of the absolute arcane torture, they were putting me through with that paraplegic treatment they had me under. You should know better than anyone at this current moment how fucking crappy that feels. How helpless you are.

Then we have the matter of this mess. The Avengers are a family. And a Zemo was able to come between us, with a few words and carefully conducted bombings.” Tony starts to open his mouth to argue with you but you cut him off.

“I'm not finished. Yes, Steve is partially at fault for this. But so are you, sweetie. The Avengers are a gray area. And the two of you made this about absolutes. Did you read the accords? Because there was so messed up shit in there.

Like you know how on the Raft, they wanted to take my L1. It was a condition in the accords. I would have had to have signed them and come back had I wanted to keep the use of my legs. Did you catch that one?” You ask, and you can see that you're getting somewhere.

“I'd be missing a vertebra, Tony. The normal hospitals can't deal with that sci-fi shit. Do you know where'd the leave me? In a medically induced coma, until the common folks science could catch up. You wanna talk about bullshit. Do you know what that would have done to Clint? You had better because you're feeling it right now, with an awake and hopefully recovering Rhodey.

Now, what about the twins. They wanted to have Wanda registered as a weapon of mass destruction. Wanted to have her put in some sort of shock collar like she had at the Raft. Sweet little innocent Wanda.

And Pietro, I know the two of you were still working towards forgiveness. But Pietro saved my life, and they wanted to put him in special concrete shoes that were literally sewn into his feet. They didn't go that far on the Raft, but he was pretty much restrained the same as me. Just with an added electrical current to suppress his powers.

Those Accords were a shitshow, Tony. Come on, you have to see it. Let us come home. Work on rebuilding our family again.” Sure it wasn't exactly a well planned out speech. But it'd do better than nothing. Tony quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, are you done now?” He asks, and you suppose that you deserved that reaction. Instead of saying anything, you just nod.

“First off, not my Accords. I can't just let you come back especially after the shit you guys just pulled on the Raft.

Second off, do you know what your Captain and his best old buddy did? What they knew and didn't tell me? He killed them. Obadiah almost killed me because of him.” It's clear that Tony is emotional. You knew that you would be too. But there's another way to look at this.

“Okay, Tones. Let me start by saying that I'm sorry for your loss. I know that finding this out restarts the stages of grief, and it can't be easy on top of everything else.

But, why don't we look at this from another angle? You remember how angry you were when you realized that Obadiah had been manipulating you. You changed your whole company after that.

Now, you've got Bucky. He's been ‘saved' by HYDRA after falling from a train. They immediately start working on manipulating him, using the fact that they had saved his life for their own sick and twisted agenda.

He was made into a weapon. He's trying to find himself again. Shouldn't you try and give him a second chance? Just like you deserved to be given a second chance.

And yes, I understand we're fugitives and shit. But this is Ross. The very same Ross that would have killed Banner years ago, had he gotten his way.

So, I do understand if you can't just invite us back. But, try and open your heart at least.” You finish, you'd been watching Tony's face, and you could see the exact moment when he realized what you were saying. The sickening realization that swept over his face for the briefest of moments, before he made his face blank.

“You're right. Savor that, I don't admit to those things often. And I do want to stick it to Ross, but I can't let you guys come back.” Tony says, and you give him a sad smile.

“I understand, give Rhodey my best.” You say, turning to take off.

“Can you tell them that I'm sorry. Maybe coming from you they'll believe it more.” Tony says, and you nod.

“Of course, take care of yourself. Call us if you need us.” You say, and take off running through the trees.

When you got to the pick-up point, you weren't alone. You were tired, your legs and back hurt. Your lungs had protested the lazy pace you'd done for the two-mile run. You just wanted to put your feet up, and wait for the boys to come pick you back up. But you couldn't because you were being watched.

You silently crept around the perimeter, not finding anyone. You kept your senses on high alert, as you pushed the door open and went into the tiny one-room cottage. You caught a glimpse of a back out of the corner of your eye and moved to attack before you stopped.

“Clint?! What are you doing here? I was going to take you down.” You sign to him, and he quickly apologizes. Tapping his ears to let you know his has hearing aids in. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him.

“Don't ever scare me like that again, you idiot.” You tell him, as you pretty much collapse into his arms.

“It's so good to hear your voice again. Even if you did just call me an idiot.” He says, sweeping you off your feet. In a couple of steps, he's set you down on the bed.

“But you're my idiot. I married you, remember.” You tease, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to you.

“That was probably a stupid decision really.” Clint jokes, as he carefully crawls into the bed behind you.

“Can we just - Okay bear with me for a moment here. We just got off the Raft, you just got your ears back, and I just got my feet back. I missed you. I missed everything. So can we just stay here for a bit all tangled together so I know this is real, and not just a dream.” You admit softly. Sure you'd been retired for the better part of a year, but the hardwired need to be strong and made of steel all the time was still there.

“Hey, look at me. We're safe, we're here. We're on the run, but you're never going to lose me. We're married, remember?” Clint says as he rolls you to face him. He runs his hands down over your back, as your legs become intertwined. You press your face into his neck and just breath in the scent of your archer.

You were woken up by a large hand, shaking you. Your eyes finally train in on Steve, and you work to untangle yourself from your archer.

“Sorry, Cap. It didn't quite work as I had planned it to. Tony sends his apologies, though.” You say, moving to sit up. Your back is sore, and your legs are a little wobbly as you stand up.

“It's alright, (Y/N). I didn't expect to be able to go home. This'll just be the end of the line for a little bit.” Steve says as the three of you head out for the quinjet. Wakanda would just have to be your home for now.

[jarpadandjensenaremyheroes]

The Little Princess: Chapter 11

A/n- First of all, Dean and Jo is pretty much the only ship I have for SPN (and I went down with that one HARD). But for this story, it worked well to have her bitter and angsty. Secondly, a huge thanks to @petrovadixon for getting my creative juices flowing! Because of her, I was able to get this chapter out and down on paper, and have two more planned and started! It would have taken me FOREVER to get anything out if it wasn’t for her creative ideas. Thanks hun!!!

*EDIT: I realize that the way I worded the talk about adoption and abortion made it sound like that’s something I am against. I don’t believe adoption or abortion is selfish or wrong by any means. I am a pro choice activist. It is a decision to be made by the woman carrying the child and no one else. So please, I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Your decisions are your decisions and there will never be any judgement from me. <3

Word count: 2,294

Warnings: Tiny little bit of angst, fluff, Jo being a bitch, TW: some self-doubt/self-bashing. Minor amounts of cussing.

Chapter summary: Ellen meets Mary, and you have an interesting encounter with Jo.

Characters: Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester, OFC Mary Winchester, Reader

Need to catch up? HERE is the masterlist!

Chapter 11

As you pulled into the parking lot of the roadhouse, Jo came outside. She had heard the heavy rumble of the Impala. She seemed completely oblivious to you and your daughter in the backseat. Dean climbed out of the car after giving your hand a squeeze and was thrown off balance when Jo jumped into his arms. You watched from the car with jealousy and anger as she shamelessly flirted with your boyfriend. She wasn’t taking his hints to get off him and finally he pushed her away as she let out a whine and stood there clinging to him. Jealousy overcame you as you climbed out of the car, clearing your throat when you were in view of them. Jo scowled at you.

“I thought you left him. What are you doing here? Trying to mend his shattered heart?” She almost spat the words at you.

You put on your best fake smile for her. “Actually little girl, I’m here with him to introduce our daughter to friends.” Jo’s face paled. “Wanna meet her? Or are you gonna continue throwing yourself all over my man?”

She disentangled herself from Dean, who seemed almost pleased you had come to his rescue. He shot you a look that screamed I’m sorry but you just waved it off. Before Jo could stomp off and ruin the surprise you had planned for her mother, you grabbed her arm and looked her right in the eyes.

“You may not like me and I understand that, but your momma helped me when I needed it most and she deserves a happy thing every once in a while. So you don’t say a word about me and Dean and the baby. You let her have this. Not for me, but for her. Got it?”

She scowled at you once more, but made it clear she understood with a tiny nod of her head.

You turned around to get Mary out of the car, but Dean was already holding her, swinging around in the gravel lot. This is so perfect you thought to yourself. You knew your thought was reflected in your smile though. Dean walked up, returning your smile and took your hand in his to walk you inside. As soon as you crossed the threshold of the door, you saw Ellen back behind the bar. A few other hunters you knew were straggling around the bar, but you and Dean only wanted the attention of Ellen. You approached the bar and Dean spoke softly but gruffly.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get a drink ‘round here?”

Ellen whipped around clearly intent on giving Dean a sassy retort, but as soon as she laid eyes on you and Mary, her whole face went slack with shock.

“My word…I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again Y/N.” She turned her eyes to Mary who was still in Dean’s arms. “Is…is that who I think it is?”

You were beaming with pride, as was Dean. With tears in your eyes you spoke for the first time.

“It is. Ellen, meet Mary Grace Winchester.” Moving closer to Mary, you pointed at Ellen. “Mary, this is your Aunt Ellen.”

Mary cooed and giggled as she shyly reached for Ellen across the bar.

Ellen had tears in her eyes as well. “Let me come around and hold you baby.”

She came around the other side of the bar and Mary’s eyes followed her the whole way. She practically launched herself out of Dean’s arms once Ellen was close. Apparently the shyness was short lived. She giggled and screeched as Ellen began tickling her and playing with her. Having an idea, you took Mary from Ellen’s arms. Seeing the sad look on Ellen’s face, you quickly said, “just watch. You’ll have her back in just a second. You took a few steps back and set Mary on the floor. She quickly stood up using the leg of your pants as leverage and began toddling towards the older woman.

Ellen dropped to her knees with an exclamation of, “OH! She’s walking already!” She couldn’t contain her laughter as Mary fell into her chest, giggling and cooing at the woman.

Dean came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist as he softly whispered in your ear, “I love you, Y/N. I love our perfect little family. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

You grinned as you turned your face towards his, giving his stubbled cheek a soft, lingering kiss. “I love you too Dean Winchester. I just wish our folks could be here to see our perfect little family… But Ellen and Bobby are more than enough.”

The three of you sat and talked for hours, watching Mary toddle around between you. Things were going great, up until Jo came stumbling over to the table you were sitting at; she reeked of tequila and you didn’t have time to prepare for the onslaught that came with it.

“You, Y/N, are the most selfish bitch I have ever met. You had a relationship with one of the most amazing, brave, and selfless men we know, and you threw it all away. You took his child away from him without even giving him a chance and kept him in the dark. Who does that? All he’s ever wanted was a shot at normal, a family, and you kept it from him. Some of us would happily give him that and more!”

Ellen was glaring at her daughter. “Jo that’s enough.” But Jo just waved her mother off and continued.

“I don’t know what he ever saw in you, or what he sees in you now. 20 bucks says you take off on him again. You’re too selfish to ever give him the chance he deserves. He’d be better off if he had never saved you back in Milwaukee. At least if you were dead he’d have some closure. He wouldn’t have to deal with this shit show of a sham. So fuck you. I doubt that’s even Dean’s kid with the whore that you are!”

“JOANNA BETH I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH!” Ellen’s voice was booming. Jo seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in. Still fuming, she stormed back upstairs where she had come from.

You pried your hand away from Dean’s and ran outside, praying no one would follow you. But your prayers went unnoticed when your heard Dean calling after you and the heavy thumping of his boots on the gravel.

“Dean please don’t. Not right now. I knew she would be upset about this if she was here, but I didn’t think she would do this. I don’t know how to handle this and quite honestly, I don’t want to right now. I just want a few minutes alone.”

“Princess please…Jo is just drunk. It doesn’t excuse the behavior at all; but you gotta understand I was a mess after you left. I missed you so bad. I came here looking for you and Jo got sour when I turned down her advances. She talked about you and tried to get me to see reason, but the more she talked, the more I wanted to find you, and that pissed her off. I don’t think she means any of it. I’m the one she’s pissed at, she’s just taking it out on you. I’m so sorry Y/N. Please just come back inside and we’ll sort this out.”

The tears spilled over your eyes and you lost it. “She’s right though Dean! I am a selfish bitch. I didn’t once think of how you and Sam would feel or how this would affect Mary’s life. I just left and spent almost two years lying to you. But for what it’s worth, Mary is your daughter. There was no one else besides yo-”

“Y/N stop. I never once doubted you. I knew there was no one else. Even after, I know there was no one after me. There was never anyone for me either. Jo is not right. She young and doesn’t understand that you made a hard decision. An impossible decision made in the best interests of our little girl. Y/N, you are not selfish. Selfish would have been staying and trying to hunt while pregnant. Or leaving a newborn with someone like Jo to go hunt. You were anything but selfish. You gave up your whole life, everything you knew, to take care of a whole new human. You could have easily given her up for adoption, or had an abortion, but you didn’t. You gave her a shot at a normal life. None of that is selfish. Do you understand? Jo doesn’t need to like or understand what decisions were made and why. It’s none of her damn business. What happened is between you and me, and no one else. I don’t hold those decisions against you and I never will, so I need you to stop doing it to yourself. I love you. Only you. Nothing anyone else says is going to change that. Especially not some jealous brat! She can tell me anything in the world, and it wouldn’t change my mind about you and how I feel for you. Please don’t let this come between us…”

You burst into tears again and Dean just held you. It felt like this was all you could do with this man. You felt weak and undeserving. He deserves so much better than this. As if he could read your thoughts, he sat you down on the hood of Baby and tipped your head back to look at him.

“You are enough. You are more than enough. Mary is an absolute blessing, and if I’m being totally honest…I had never even thought about having that with anyone until you. You, Y/N, with your strong will and stubborn as hell personality, are the first woman in…well, ever, to make me want to settle down and have a family. I haven’t, don’t, and won’t ever want that with anyone other than you. You’re my princess. I know everything has happened so fast the last few days, but I need you. I need you in so many ways. Please, just…please believe me when I say you are more than I deserve.” He punctuated his last sentence with a soft kiss to your lips that conveyed all the emotion his words couldn’t.

This man actually loves me.

You let him hold you there until you had stopped crying. You took his outstretched hand and walked back inside with him, hoping that Jo would continue to make herself scarce for the evening. You weren’t sure you would be able to control yourself next time she said something or threw herself at Dean; and you really didn’t want to hit the poor girl. You were relieved when you saw only Ellen holding Mary; no Jo in sight. As you approached her, she called out to you.

“Does Bobby know y’all are back together yet? Lord knows he got tired of hearing Dean’s whining,” she said with a chuckle.

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed. “No, we were going to surprise him next, so don’t ruin it for us, okay?”

She just laughed as she nodded her head.

“Speaking of Bobby, we should probably start heading that way. Whatdya say princess?”

You didn’t really think spending the night at the roadhouse with Jo was a good plan. “Yeah we probably should. It’s about nap time for the little one anyways. And she’s never slept as well as she has in the Impala these last couple days. She’s just like her daddy.” You giggled at that a little.

“Excuse me? If I remember correctly, it’s always been you who passed out in the back seat before we had made it 5 miles from anywhere.” He shot you a pointed glare.

“That’s only because you refuse to let anyone else drive your precious Baby,” you retorted, making him redden in embarrassment. “That’s what I thought,” you added when he was silent.

Ellen could only laugh at the quick exchange. “You two haven’t changed one bit! Let me at least get y’all some food for the road if you insist on heading out. I can’t say I blame ya after Joanna’s little outburst earlier. Y/N, please know that you and Mary are always welcome here. No matter what my brat of a teenager says. My place, my rules, and y’all are family. You can come on over whenever you’d like. So don’t you keep that beautiful little girl from me for too long, ya hear?”

“I promise I won’t Ellen. She already loves you so much, how could I keep her away?”

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed some burgers and fries for you and Dean, and some apple slices, grapes, and fries for Mary.

“If you need the apples or grapes cut up smaller I can do that for you. Don’t want the little thing choking in the car. Daddy would have a fit! Wouldn’t he baby?” she was asking Mary.

Ellen gave all three of you hugs and walked you out to the car, apologizing once again for her daughter’s behavior. The goodbye quickly became a little misty-eyed and you got Mary in her car seat and situated with her snacks, which she was squealing about. She really loves her food. You turned around and gave Ellen one last hug, thanking her for everything she had done for you and your little family. Then you slid into the front seat, giggling as Dean gave you a playful swat on your ass. As you rolled out of the lot you waved goodbye to Ellen, and noticed Jo glaring down at you all from her window upstairs. Some things never change.

@petrovadixon

@quackerstheduck663057