#nobody deserves to think everyone hates them

[ilikeflowey]

I just saw a post that was like. You should always follow your instinct!! Your friends do hate you!!! And like. No?? Do not do this. To yourself or to your friends. Especially with super close friends. Your friends love you. It's why we are friends.

If you're really worried about it. Ask. And I get it. I'm autistic too. It's hard and you notice little changes and you overthink it but. I get busy. Things happen in my life. And I always have to tell myself life happens to everyone. Even if it's hard to see outside your lense.

Tldr. If you're worried. Ask them or talk to them. If you're right. I'm sorry. That sucks but you don't want to be friends with someone who isn't compatible/ mean to you anyways. You'll make new friends. You'll make better ones. I did.

And. Trust your friends.

[untangling-my-headphones]

obviously they have mirror travel but if the boys and Crystal (and Niko?) don't hang out in port townsend much and all the other characters stay there I'm 100% gonna headcanon that they all end up finding each other again and creating a little found family, just spit-balling but like Monty finds the Cat King to ask to be turned human again (or a shape-shifter) but there's still a bit of tension between them so he doesn't stay and he goes to find the only other person he knew, Jenny! And is like are you still renting out a room? She let's him stay for free because she's still sorting out everything with the explosion aftermath so maybe the electric isn't reliable or there's a bunch of cracks in the walls she doesn't feel fair charging him for staying in a room like that and also she probably secretly misses having a teenager or two around to cause trouble. Jenny's new found ability to see the dead leads to some interest in the supernatural so her and Monty take a trip to Mick's to look around and chat with him and listen to his story, maybe they all go to the beach to search for sea glass or see Angie or something and bump into Asha who gives Mick more info on the washer woman and they end up bonding over their love of the sea. Monty and Jenny keep spotting more cats than normal around the shop or following them about and eventually, with Edwin's words of loneliness in his mind the Cat King slowly slides his way into their little group as well. They'd be such a weird little bunch of misfits, i feel like they'd get up to some fun shenanigans

[princsstwilightsparkl]

saying "if aroace people can date, then can lesbians date men?" is absolutely aphobic narrative btw!

[trafficpan-ic]

I don't think anyone actually want to celebrate my birthday, with me.

[monards]

the way dain refers to them as the 5 sinners of khaneri'ah even though in almost religion or religious concept to include the idea of sin it's an established point that all humans are inherently 'sinners' due to being human im going insane

[teaboot]

Things you can do as a security guard instead of acting like a dickhead: a vent post disguised as advice

Offer alternatives: IE, “Sorry, nobody’s allowed to hang out over there, but we have seats over here you’re welcome to use”. I recommend getting familiar with local parks, public seating, free food programs, outreach, mobile aid, etc., just in case those are needed.

Be polite: IE, “Excuse me, sir”, “I beg your pardon, miss”. This should go without saying but everyone deserves dignity.

Avoid phrasing requests as orders: IE, “Don’t stand in front of that” VS “Excuse me, could you move a bit to the side?”. This works best with an explanation, like, “There’s a sign behind you”, or, “you might get clipped by someone”. This helps communicate that you are asking for a reason, not just throwing your weight around. If you don’t have a reason, rethink whether or not you need to be doing anything.

Avoid directing blame or fault. Don’t say, “The owner says you gotta go” when you could say, “I’m not supposed to let people be here for X period” or “do X thing”. Again, try to have alternatives ready so people can use other resources or do something else instead of just abruptly changing plans.

Come from a place of compassion whenever you can. People are gonna tell you to get rid of the crazy screaming guy. They say that because they’re frightened and don’t know what to do. Your best approach is, “Hello sir”, followed by, “How are you today?”, “how’s it going?”, “are you doing alright?”, etc., depending on what the person is ACTUALLY doing / saying when you get there. You can offer help from there if needed, or leave them alone if they’re not in danger or a risk to anyone.

Remember you’re not a cop. This can mean whatever you need it to mean. For me personally, that means that with incredibly rare exception (like trying to sell to kids, contaminating other’s food or drink) I won’t report you for drugs. If I find you doing drugs on my site I’ll tell you a different place where you can do them instead and ask you to do them there. I have interrupted drug deals to ask the client and the salesman to both kindly move 15 feet to the left, I’m not kidding, I do not care.

Know who you can throw under the bus. Sometimes you gotta enforce rules and be the bad guy and if that’s the fault of some dipshit in a suit 200 miles away, you can say that. Sorry man, I can’t let you park your car on the lawn. I know you’re not hurting anyone and frankly I think lawn culture is stupid but there’s other parking stalls and if my boss sees you I’ll get a write-up for not doing my job. Shit sucks sometimes but if it wasn’t me telling you it’d be the new guy, and between you and me he’s an idiot and he’ll probably just report you to bylaw.

Don’t just act like you’re their friend, genuinely try to be a good friend. If you know that someone is doing something that will only result in a bystander phoning police, don’t let them go down like that. Let them know, “hey man, you seem like you’re having a shit time and I get it, I’ll do what I can, but we gotta have this conversation somewhere else ‘cause we’re freaking out the old ladies.”

Swallow your tongue. You can’t fix the world. People are gonna bitch at you about communists and 5G and gangster rap ruining the neighbourhood, that’s just part of the deal. Nod along, remain neutral, shut down any hate speech, redirect if you can, and keep a limit in mind where you’ll have to shut things down.

Accept that sometimes there are no solutions. Yes, that angry guy who blasts music will be back tomorrow. That homeless woman who asks you to help her find her dog that she hasn’t had in 30 years will ask again, and yes, you’re still going to take a description and promise to keep an eye out. That kid who smokes crack behind the building has been clean for a few weeks and still stops by to say hi, and you hope he’ll get his life together and be happy, but he also might relapse and OD before he hits 25. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can, even if nothing is guaranteed.

Be kind to teenagers. Being a kid is hard, and everyone’s on their ass all the damn time for everything.

Remember that the vast majority of bad people aren’t bad, just unhappy. The guy who keeps showing up drunk and puking on the carpet is unhappy. The lady who bitches about the service every single time and keeps coming back anyway is unhappy. The guy who leaves trash everywhere is probably unhappy. If they were happy, maybe they’d do better, but they’re not, and that’s kinda sad. You don’t have to let them get away with their shit, but they probably aren’t actually a worthless human being either.

It doesn’t matter if 12 is true or not. You need to believe it or you will become a harsh and bitter person. Look for evidence that people are not terrible and invent it if you have to

Don’t let yourself become a bastard

[yikes-ajax-thats-sad]

Resisting the urge to say sorry all the time. Ain't looking good besties 😔✊

[luna-azzurra]

How to Write a Character

↠ Start with the basics, because obviously. Name. Age. Gender. Maybe even a birthday if you’re feeling fancy. This is step one because, well, your character needs to exist before they can be interesting. But nobody cares if they’re 27 or 37 unless it actually matters to the story.

↠ Looks aren’t everything… but also, describe them. Yes, we know their soul is more important than their hair color, but readers still need something to visualize. Do they have the kind of face that makes babies cry? Do they always look like they just rolled out of bed? Give us details, not just “tall with brown hair.

↠ Personality isn’t just “kind but tough.” For the love of storytelling, give them more than two adjectives. Are they kind, or do they just pretend to be because they hate confrontation? Are they actually tough, or are they just too emotionally repressed to cry in public? Dig deeper.

↠ Backstory = Trauma (usually). Something shaped them. Maybe it was a messy divorce, maybe they were the middle child and never got enough attention, or maybe they once got humiliated in a spelling bee and never recovered. Whatever it is, make it matter to who they are today.

↠ Give them a goal. Preferably a messy one. If your character’s only motivation is to “be happy” or “do their best,” they’re boring. They need a real goal, one that conflicts with who they are, what they believe in, or what they think they deserve. Bonus points if it wrecks them emotionally.

↠ Make them suffer. Yes, I said it. A smooth, easy journey is not a story. Give them obstacles. Rip things away from them. Make them work for what they want. Nobody wants to read about a character who just gets everything handed to them (unless it’s satire, then carry on).

↠ Relationships = Depth. Nobody exists in a vacuum. Who do they love? Who annoys the hell out of them? Who do they have that messy, can’t-live-with-you-can’t-live-without-you tension with? People shape us. So, shape your character through the people in their life.

↠ Give them a voice that actually sounds like them. If all your characters talk the same, you’ve got a problem. Some people ramble, some overthink, some are blunt to the point of being offensive. Let their voice show who they are. You should be able to tell who’s talking without dialogue tags.

↠ If they don’t grow, what’s the point? People change. They learn things, make mistakes, get their hearts broken, and (hopefully) become a little wiser. If your character starts and ends the story as the same exact person, you just wasted everyone’s time.

↠ Flaws. Give. Them. Flaws. Nobody likes a perfect character. Give them something to struggle with, maybe they’re selfish, maybe they push people away, maybe they’re addicted to the thrill of self-destruction (fun!). Make them real. Make them human.

↠ Relatability is key. Your character doesn’t have to be likable, but they do have to be understandable. Readers need to get them, even if they don’t agree with them. If your character never struggles, never doubts, and never screws up, I have bad news: they’re not a character, they’re a mannequin.

↠ You’re never actually done. Characters evolve, not just in the story, but as you write them. If something feels off, fix it. If they feel flat, dig deeper. Keep refining, rewriting, and letting them surprise you. That’s how you create someone who feels real.

Now go forth and write characters that actually make people feel something. And if you need a reminder, just ask yourself: Would I care if this person existed in real life? If the answer is meh, start over.

[glindyupland]

.

[shimmering-starsun]

there’s been an insane resurgence of headcannons in the marvel fandom thanks to thunderbolts, so heres my masterlist of headcannons i’ve seen from others that I will continue to add to :)

Yelena

her guinea pig is the group pet—named Nat

insists on doing karaoke every saturday night, she and Ava eat everyone up.

Cooks for EVERYONE. makes sure they all eat enough.

laughs at her own jokes, especially the bad ones. Ava can’t help but laugh with her.

Bucky

leads group therapy seasion every tuesday.

tries* to use brainrot and slang terms, but it catches onto Alexei, so now nobody can convince him otherwise.

helps Bob with his nightmares. Sees pre-serum Steve in Bob so he feels like he needs to protect him

talks about Sam a lot, everyones tired of it.

argues with John constantly, but they always work well together on missions.

It’s a competition to see who can sneak up on and scare bucky. He’s expressionless every time and just says “wow that was so scary”

Insists on silence breaks, everyone starts speaking again after 3 minutes.

says he never cares, but makes sure there’s water and first aid for every mission.

Bob

THE little brother.

has to have some amount of light on when he sleeps. He also loves to sleep in the living room on the couch when other’s are there to listen to the soft of their voices.

May or may not be on Booktok, either way, he reads romance and mystery.

always in the corner drinking tea or a milkshake when the others are fighting.

hates cucumber, any way it’s prepared.

He always beats John in every card or board game. when it’s more than 2 people playing, it doesn’t matter if Bob comes out on top, he always gets a higher score than John.

watches cartoons to heal his inner child, doesn’t let anyone know.

>800 hours on minecraft

hard for him to accept gifts from others, even if it’s a bag of chips, he’ll say he doesn’t deserve it.

actually has a great sense of humor, can make the entire team cry from laughter just by saying something small. Takes him a couple weeks to loosen up and start joking around

Ava

likes to jumpscare people by just appearing out of thin air. Steals everyones snacks because she can.

Ultimate gaslighter, especially towards Bob. shows him those ai videos of sad cat stories and obvious rage bate and he gets pissed about it.

loves halloween and horror movies (a menace on halloween night, especially to John who she would just stand in the hallway and stare menacingly at while in a clown costume or something)

has trouble sleeping. Bucky once found her on the floor of the training room at 3am

once passed out from overworking herself, woke up and found Bob sitting next to her watching over her like a big golden retriever.

Kendrick Lamar enthusiast

Red Guardian

runs a tiktok account where he posts videos of the team (bonus, he puts filters on them and doesn’t tell)

will make the most heinous food combinations and swear they’re good.

hugs a little too tightly.

always gives a big dramatic speech before they go out, even if it’s just for coffee.

tells stories that are 90% lies, but everyone listens anyway.

John

acts as if he doesn’t care for the group, but gets worried if they don’t all text him back.

thinks he has a niche movie collection but it’s not neiche at all. horrible taste in movies (this one is very popular)

resident chef, along with Yelena.

the only one who has an actual schedule.

Gets really quiet after missions, especially if things went bad. Extremely self-critical even if it’s not apparent.

[ceesimz]

new person, same old mistakes

old habits die hard. (light angst -> fluff)

Alexia’s past relationships had left a hefty mark on her, and she hated it. But it wasn’t just them, it was everybody else she’d ever met and sold her soul to. There was something about her that people loved to abandon, which might be surprising to some but to her, no longer. 

Oftentimes, she saw herself as the catalyst in all those situations. It had to be something she did rather than anyone else because she was who she was. She was Alexia Putellas, a footballer that was hardly in one place for more than a week at once. Then add on top of that the events she had to go to, the cameras and the fans that followed her, how her name was somehow in the media everyday, and one comes to realise that they aren’t appropriate conditions to love another. She was the only one to blame, there was no other sensical explanation. 

It went the same way every time; she met someone, she loved someone, only to become no one. The notorious captain had learned to make peace with goodbyes before the words were spoken, if they ever were spoken. Some left with no warning, and she didn’t blame them, if anything she had to thank them because they were the ones that hurt her the least. They saved a slice of her dignity, a decency the others didn’t bother to give. Whether they didn’t care or didn’t think she deserved one, she didn’t dare dwell on it too long out of fear of what she may find, and she could never, ever, find it within herself to share it with anyone.

It was a problem in her life and her life alone, the ones that did stick around didn’t need to know about it, so she gave them no reason to suspect such a flaw in her character. She didn’t talk about it, didn’t let it shape how she acted in front of the world, but in the moments she was quiet, it was there. The awareness that people left was something she carried with her everywhere without meaning to. And as a result, she’d learned not to expect permanence – the other shoe had to drop at some point.

The only place it didn’t bother her was the football pitch, which wasn't a shock. Nobody could abandon her in the world of football, everyone either wanted to meet her or be her. As long as she worked hard to maintain her fitness and her technique and everything that made her definitively admirable in one aspect of her life, then she at least had something to fall back on.

Despite having gone through countless breakups, each more painful than the last, there was still a part of her that wanted to believe things could be different. She was a person that persevered and she prided herself on that. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, it plagued her mind more often than she’d ever admit. Every new conversation carried the possibility of an ending, every connection came with the knowledge that it would be another thing she looked back on rather than growing into the future with. Nevertheless, it never stopped her from putting herself out there. 

If she gave herself some slack, she would come to realise that that was something admirable and rare in itself. not everyone trusted the world the way she did, even after all she’d been through, but she still did.

And it led her to you. It led her to lying on her sofa, some hours after a Sunday lunchtime league game, tendrils of her hair still damp and a little wavy where it was fanned out atop your thighs as she rested her head in your lap. Your fingers stroked through her hair, every so often lightly massaging her scalp and hearing her hum contentedly. 

Where you both relaxed together, it was the picture of serenity and domesticity. In short, it was all Alexia could wish for. Moments like that, she managed to keep her head in check, because you were there and present to make her past seem a million miles away. But it was a past you were unaware of, through no fault of your own of course, yet none the wiser all the same. 

“What are you thinking for dinner tonight?” You wondered, keeping your voice even and low so as to not disturb the peace in the room. The woman below you gave no reaction for a little while, to the point you thought she was asleep, until she opened her eyes and smiled softly up at you.

“There is the ingredents for your favourite.” The blonde murmured in her thick accent, the little trip-up of her English bringing an amused look to your face.

“Ingredients.” You gently corrected her, which she often told you to do. But at times like that when her grammar and pronunciation was the last of her concerns, was when she made the majority of her errors. She was a perfectionist, or tried to be at least, in all avenues of her life, you just didn’t know the root cause of why. 

“Eh, ya sabes a qué me refería.” She grumbled with a click of her tongue that made you laugh a little. “I will cook for you, sí? No choice.”

“You had a game today, you don’t need to.” 

Before you could even finish your sentence, she was waving you off. Then you said something that was intended as harmless, not knowing that it’d feel like the end of the world for your girlfriend of just a few months.

“You love me too much.” 

A phrase that was simple to speak held far more weight to it than anyone outside Alexia’s mind could ever realise. The thing was, she’d been told that exact thing before, right when someone she once loved walked out on her, where that was the only reasoning she received. It ate away at her constantly. 

She cursed herself for it, because with her it was always either too little or too much.

‘You’re hardly ever here, I deserve someone that is.’

‘You’re too much for me.’

‘You don’t appreciate me enough.’

‘You love me too much.’

Relationships were the one thing she couldn’t win at, when funnily enough it was the only thing she felt she needed in her life.

She wanted another Champion’s League, she wanted to win the Euros, she wanted an Olympic medal. She wanted to win every single match she played. Yet she didn’t need any of those. She’d come to realise that, aside from her family, the sole thing she needed was you. And she had ruined that. Again. Like she did with everyone else. This time the heartache was immeasurable, because of who it was she’d messed up with. Or assumed she’d messed up with.

It took a while for you to notice what you’d done, by the time you suspected something was wrong the sun was long gone and the two of you had gotten into bed. Where you both normally lay together, engulfed by the duvet and each other, the footballer couldn’t have left more of a gap if she tried. 

She loved you too much, so she gave you space. That’s how her thought process worked. Whatever she had to do to make you stay, she would do it even if it killed her. But God you’d be damned if you didn’t dig her out of the worthless rut she’d been thrown into the last few years. 

And thankfully, for the sake of your futures and her life, you were a little less scarred and a little more aware than she was. You shuffled over across the bed and put a delicate hand on her shoulder, letting her know you were there. She didn’t move a muscle, not even an inch. The only thing she did was try to hide the slight shallowness to her breathing, which in the silence of the room, was a very futile attempt.

“Ale, what’s wrong?” You whispered, still not getting any sort of reply. “Alexia. Talk to me, please.” 

“‘tas bien, amor. Es nada.” She mumbled hoarsely. 

At that point you could feel her shoulders shaking under your hand, and knew there was something far more concerning going on with her than you initially realised. You were right, couldn’t be more right; the midfielder was minutes away from delving head first into a panic attack. 

With one short sentence from you, a mere five words, you’d unknowingly dredged up years worth of repressed memories and wounds she’d hidden from herself and the people in her life. Just a few months with you and there she was, nearly sobbing as you lay next to her. She hadn’t done that in any other relationship. It was either her breaking point, or the start of something new. Something better for her, much healthier, where she was valued wholeheartedly without a shred of doubt. Whatever it was, you knew you could tackle. Whether that be with her, for her, or to stand by and watch her. On this occasion, it was all three. And that didn’t put you off in the slightest. 

“No, it’s not nothing.” You argued, sitting up and trying to urge her to do the same with your hand on her back. Somehow that only led to her crying harder, her whole body wracking with the sobs leaving her throat as she turned to hide her face in her pillow. “Ale, sit up. We need to calm you down, you’ll make yourself feel ill.” 

At that, she gave in. She allowed you to help her up and sit her back against the headboard, your hands clutching hers tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see you looking at her so pitifully. Would have just made her feel worse. First she loved you too much, then she cried like a baby. It was one thing after another and you shouldn’t have to deal with that, it tore her in two that you did. Never did she want to break like that in front of you, or anyone for that matter. Worst part was that it was far too late to do anything about it. 

“You’re going to end up having a panic attack, you’re hyperventilating. Breathe for me, nice and deep. There you go.” You instructed, and she followed along with all her might because there was no way she'd put more on your plate when you already had a blubbering, emotional mess to deal with. You didn’t need to witness a panic attack from her on top of that, it’d be immeasurably embarrassing for her and she didn’t think she could ever look you in the eye if things went that far. “Keep going, you’re doing perfect for me, Ale. Like that, little more.” 

Not so long later, her breathing was finally under her control again. Though, her emotions weren’t. Tears continued their path down her cheeks and you stayed in front of her, thumbs running over her knuckles as she came back to herself. Her eyes were red and swollen, and they had a heaviness to them that made your chest ache. All you could do in that second was pray she opened up to you. 

“What got you like that? That was almost pretty bad.” You smiled sadly, raising a hand to delicately wipe away some of the drops on her face, only for them to be replaced by more. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times, like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. She was caught between two minds; should she open up to you? Or save you the trouble, the drama, the theatrics and the sympathy?

“I…” She breathed out shakily, not daring to meet your stares. She settled for the one thing that seemed suitable. “Sorry. I am sorry.” 

“You’re sorry? What for?” You frowned in utter confusion, shocked that’s what she landed on when it was the last thing you would expect from her. In fact, you wouldn’t ever expect it from her, not after the state she had just been in.

“Sorry for a lot. A lot of things.” She stated insecurely, chancing it and glancing up at you before immediately averting her gaze again. There were too many feelings present on your face that overwhelmed her, that she felt she didn’t deserve. Just another thing on your plate.

“Explain for me, Ale, because I’m lost. I don’t know what you’re apologising for.” You prompted her, squeezing her hand that you still held while the other landed on her knee. 

God, where to start.

“Sorry for… this. Sorry for, uh, being me. Being a footballer and spending too many weeks away. Sorry for lo-” Whatever she was about to say next seemed to be too much for her, but when you went to tell her she didn’t need to be sorry for anything, she broke your heart in a rather unconventional way. “Sorry for loving you too much? I am sorry for that the most.” 

How on earth could she apologise for that? When she was the most loving, caring, adoring, thoughtful, and selfless human you’d ever encountered, nevermind be loved by?

Then you realised, it was a much deeper problem than you ever could have assumed. As you sat there in front of her afterwards, you slowly started to connect the dots too. This breakdown linked a lot of things together like a red string dating back to the very first date you met.

You scrambled internally to find the right things to say because you were speechless, more than you had been in your life beforehand. There were so many things rushing through your mind yet you knew it was next to nothing compared to how Alexia must have been feeling. That revelation was what kicked your head into gear.

In a split second, you went from being sat in front of her to having her in your arms. You caught her off guard with the speed you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her in, desperate to have her close to you so that your actions matched your words. You realised this broken woman with a desolate heart needed all the love she could get, to the point where she’d have to accuse you of loving her too much.

“You don’t need to apologise for anything. Not a single thing, Alexia, and I swear my life on that.” You told her sternly, ensuring she took in everything you said and more. There was simply no way you were leaving that bed before she knew she could never do any wrong by loving you. “I love you for you. Not for anything else. I love you for who you are, for being a footballer, for loving me how you do. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

The girl stayed silent, her forehead dropped against your shoulder as you kept up the strength of your embrace. From the way she let herself drown in it, you knew she needed it far more than words could describe. Needed you. 

Neither of you moved for quite some time. A lot needed to be said but getting it all out there and then wasn’t what was best. No matter what her mind told you, you weren’t going anywhere that wasn’t with Alexia in your life. You’d wait a year, five, ten, forty years if you had to for her to explain why she had apologised. And where she stayed in your arms, Alexia was beginning to recognise that, finally. It was a few months later than you’d hoped but better late than never, and it was worth it when she leaned back and gazed at you with gratitude so evident on her face. 

“You…” She started, though she trailed off, because she had no words in any and all languages to be able to voice how… astounding you were and how thankful she was. Whether you’d approve of it or not (she knew you absolutely wouldn’t) she would happily take the years of torment and heartbreak if the end product was a life with you.

Fixing years worth of emotional and psychological damage from past relationships wasn’t a one-conversation job, nor could it be done overnight. It’d last for a while into the future, but the knowledge that she hadn’t scared you off and that you had said the right things for now was more than enough for the both of you. Alexia’s ability to trust, even after all she had been through, was a unique thing. It only came from someone that had faith in the world and saw beauty in it even in its darkest moments. You didn’t know the full lengths of it then, but when she felt she was in a place to tell the whole story of her past, it would turn into something you cherished and would be in awe of her for, daily. How she found you, trusted you, chose to love you and accepted all that in return with no visible qualms was astonishing to you. And you would make sure she knew it.

But back in her bedroom, you let go of her with a kiss to her cheek before you moved down the bed for you both to lay down again, this time with the intention of sleeping without descending into a panic attack. Though that was wishful thinking, because your minds were individually running a million miles per hour where you lay, limbs tangled with Alexia’s head on your chest. A question slipped off your tongue before you could stop it.

“Why are you so… insecure, Ale?” 

You physically felt her recoil, felt her cower in on herself, and went to rush out an apology before she lifted her head up and looked at you. She addressed you with earnest and honesty, giving as much as she could in that moment.

“It’s a long story. Not for tonight.” 

That was enough for you. You nodded and placed a hand on the back of her head, gently willing her to lay back down again. She did, with ease. And you thought that was that for the night. 

Some time passed, the hands of the clock on the wall ticking away as you traced your fingernails up and down her back in a soothing gesture. There was so much on your mind yet you couldn’t land on anything before the next thought came bounding along and pulled you into yet another possible scenario that the love of your life had gone through. All possibilities were terrible, and it killed you that she’d suffered in silence with them all for so long. Until she spoke up about them, there wasn’t anything you could do but love her, which you were content to settle for. If it were up to you, however, she would hand over a hitlist straight away in the case of a possible purge event.

When you least expected it, she spoke up again. It was past midnight at that point, the pair of you exhausted yet minds reeling far too much to be able to relax anytime soon. One step at a time, you would take. Progress was still progress, no matter how little or large.

“A lot of people in the past have, uh, hurt me. In relationships. They always leave. Always walk out on me. I worry you will do the same.” The only thing you could do was hug her tighter. Nothing you could do or say would be remotely close to healing her, to rid her from those memories. All you could hope for was that being there was enough, and for Alexia, it was more than enough.

“I will never leave. I promise, I will never leave.” 

They were words Alexia had heard in the past. Just like the ones you said previously. Yet you were the first person she genuinely believed.

Too long, she had surrounded herself with the wrong people, tried to fit into the wrong crowds just to find someone to keep her bed warm. Meeting you had opened up a new world for her to step into. Your world had a particular rose-tint to it, one she initially didn’t trust because everything seemed too good to be true. But with you, someone so sincere and selfless, how could she not trust you? You were worth losing everything for, but for the first time, she believed with everything in her that it wouldn’t end like that this time. Only a few months of knowing you had told her that, and she didn’t know how she had ever settled for the people she once knew. 

Luckily, that wasn’t her problem anymore. Not with you around for the rest of her life.

—

everything about my writing lately from ideas to length to execution has been abysmal lately and i feel a tad (very) ashamed of that but once things settle down in my life i hope to get back on top of everything :') thanks for putting up with my bs as always and the reverie fic will be finished soon, trust <3

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[jellymochii]

thinking about face sitting with chan, you would be having a bad day just overall be so stressed and he wanted to help you unwind after your long hard day but you didn’t want to hurt and he’d be like “you could never hurt me” and just give endless reassurance as he’s bringing your body down to his face

YEYSYEUSYESS I LOVE THIS IDEA as a girl with big thighs myself <3

cw: smut, cunnilingus, mentions of weight insecurity

Imagine you'd come home from a long, hard day at work, and all you wanted to do was get a meal in your systen and kick your feet back on the couch - but that sinking feeling returns to your belly as you take a look at your now swollen legs from all the running around you've been doing.

You hate the way your legs and your whole body look. All you can see are your hip dips and fat thighs. How could you let yourself go like this? You'd have to find a way to lose the fat, or else you'd he unlovable to everyone, you'd be unlovable to him. Besides, boys prefer skinny girls anyway, you thought.

You resisted your body's urge for some much needed nutrition and trudged your way to the couch to fall asleep and wait until Chan got home. Maybe you could magically lose 20 pounds in your slumber, if you were lucky.

You drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of your unworthiness lulling you into a depression, only to be woken shortly after by gentle kisses to your forehead.

"Well g'morning to you, sleepyhead." Chan whispered endearingly.

"Mmmm, sorry babe, long day." You muttered in your sleepy confusion.

For a brief second, it seemed as though your angst was gone-only to reappear immensely as you gazed at his loving face. He was so beautiful, so hardworking and kind, it's no wonder he had millions of adoring fans. You though? You felt like you were nothing compared to him, just a nobody in the presence of a man blessed by the goddess of beauty. Tears began to prickle in your eyes as your emotions flooded your system.

Chan took quick notice to this, scrambling to figure out what was wrong and how he could help out. He spent the next hour brushing his fingers through your hair and listening attentively to your thoughts of worthlessness, wishing he could take away the pain you felt and making his own tears threaten to spill.

"Here, baby, let me make you feel better." Chan whispered as he grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom. What you didn't expect was for him to lay flat on the bed and motion you with his fingers to come towards him.

"C'mere baby, come sit on your throne." He said as he motioned you to sit on his face.

"Oh, uh, but I-I don't wanna hurt you, I'm a little too-" Your words were cut off swiftly by Chan's palm cupping your mouth.

"No buts, you deserve it. Now sit." He retorted.

"You don't have to do this just to make me feel better, babe. I don't wanna hurt you...or suffocate you either." You remarked.

"Oh Y/N...you could never hurt me. What do you think I train with Changbin so much for? Besides, air is for pussies-I want it all.

Slightly more persuaded by his words, you slid your panties off and crept over to him, hovering over his face and giving him a view of your glistening cunt.

"Ffffuuuuck, look at that. Is this all for me?" Chan asked as he brought his digits to your folds, spreading them apart to give him the best view possible.

"God, Y/N, you don't know how fucking sexy you are. All of this gorgeous body and these soft ass thighs-I'm so lucky." He said as he took his free hand and began to knead at your plush thighs, soaking up every part of this moment.

"Are you sure you want me to do this? You can stop, anytime, promise." You replied nervously.

"Positive."

"Are you absolutely positive?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely positive."

"Ok, just make sure you tap whenever you need some-AANGH~" You cried out suddenly as he grasped your hips and shoved your body onto his face, instantly devouring your pussy like a starved man.

You couldn't help but buck your hips against the tip of his nose, especially when it hit your clit in just the right spot, making the most unholy moans escape your throat. The sounds of Chan's tongue skillfully slurping up your juices from every part of your sopping cunt was enough in itself to make you cum, even more so when he snaked his hands from under your thighs to grasp your ass desperately.

You lifted yourself off of him out of fear of hurting him, only to be met with the face of Chan, eyes furrowed and covered in your juices.

"Did I say get up? No, now get back down here and let me worship you."

Needless to say, you were gonna be in for a long night. Chan was gonna make sure you knew you were perfect, even if it meant eating you out all night long.

[hedwig221b]

I recently realized that I’ve literally never read a teen wolf ff despite being a huge fan of the show and sterek. So now I’m on the hunt for a rlly good one to start with but I’m having a bit of trouble finding one that not only fits what I’m looking for but actually has good writing (no offense to the authors I just want my first one to be a good one that hooks me like Crimson Rivers hooked me into the marauders fandom😅)

so could you recommend me some that aren’t aus, not necessarily canon but canon is okay, werewolf or human stiles, with sterek (I do love a slow burn but doesn’t have to be), maybe some of your favorites?

What an honor to introduce you to sterek fanfiction omg! Here is a list of what I consider sterek classics (the canon kind), my beloved 💖

Hide Of A Life War by Etharei

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...” The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

Home by TheTypewriterGirl

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death. The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was. So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles finds a baby on the porch. It looks exactly like him. Well, this is awkward.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf. Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks. Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody. And it’s about time somebody told him that.

Pale Horses by Jana_C 

Being bitten had never been on his to-do list, but he could deal with that. Helping Derek Hale become a competent Alpha, though, that was so not in his job description.

A Similar String by snarkatthemoon 

Strong bonds made for a strong pack, and he needed a strong pack. They spent a long time in silence, Derek thinking hard about how he was going to cement the bonds. It needed to be done, and not just because they had the threat of the witch hanging over them, but for the good of the pack. It felt like hours had passed by the time he came around; he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Stiles moving around on the couch so that his head was resting on Derek’s thigh, his long legs hanging over the arm on the far end. He wasn’t sleeping, but his eyes were closed and his heartbeat wasn’t as fast as it usually was, as if he was just on the edge of sleep. It should have felt weird, having Stiles in such close contact, but Derek found that it really didn’t feel weird at all. His head was a comforting weight in Derek’s lap, another anchor tethering him and keeping him calm and in control. . Or, the one where Derek meets a witch, gets his betas back, and seemingly develops a sense of humour. Also, Stiles is totally magic, manages to accidentally join a werewolf pack, and asks too many goddamn questions. What could possibly go wrong?

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

Hold Me Close (I'm Falling Apart) by ajeepandleather

“Wolves without an emissary are naturally turbulent because their instincts are wild. Subconsciously, you’ve been balancing them, but you aren’t tied to the pack so you aren’t getting a balance in return.” “So, they’re bleeding me dry. Always knew they were parasites.” Stiles smiled dryly. “You’ll need to attach yourself to an alpha soon. There are risks for an unbalanced druid.” “Like?” “Well, a disruption in balance may show itself in several ways. It’s a disruption in nature, so nature will twist and alter in an attempt to right itself.” “What does that mean?” Stiles was getting anxious. The vet was avoiding giving direct answers and that never meant anything good. “You’re magic is heavily entwined with your will, and your will is parallel to your mind.” “I’ll go insane.”

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

spiderweb of lies by pineneedlepants

Derek gets a chance to gain his alpha powers back. The only one throwing a wrench in those plans is Scott.

Sparks and shadows by Nival_Vixen 

Stiles has to figure out a way to maintain a balance between his spark and the darkness inside of him.

The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW

Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek. Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.

It’s Not Pretend When It’s Real by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.” “Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.” “Hey!” Scott insisted. “He’s like, my second best friend,” Stiles amended. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Right?” He turned to grin at Derek, who was scowling at him.

Running Up That Hill by maypoison

“Even before the pack joined together, Scott was trying to protect you. And he still is trying to protect you, even if it means leaving you out of all this.” Stiles does roll his eyes at that. “Yeah, but it didn’t work did it. I was still involved, and so was my Dad. We were nearly killed by Matt, and then Gerard.” “My point is, people change. Relationships aren’t always perfect. Scott's tried to kill me before." Stiles raises an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying that someone trying to kill you is just a small flaw in a relationship?" “We’re werewolves.” Derek answers with a shrug, as if that was a perfectly good explanation.

It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?” Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping. Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death. “Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least. “Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?” “Yes.” “Why?” “How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

Wolf Cub by moodwriter

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist. Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope. He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles. “I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

I know you mentioned no aus, but it would be a crime for me not to mention these absolute treasures that are staples in sterek fanfiction experience. The characters are on point, and the writing is magnificent

Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange. Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 

“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” “It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

Cloaked in Gold by kaistrex (weishen)

Stiles' world tilts, the bed dipping as a weight settles over him, caging him in. Growling. His eyes flutter open in distant confusion as hot air sweeps over his throat and he stares up at twin beams of gold shining inches from his face. Werewolf. Stiles does the only thing he can. “DAD!” The werewolf jumps at the sudden shout, blanketing him tighter, and it’s only seconds until his dad is in his bedroom doorway with Melissa close behind, flicking on the light. Stiles' mouth drops open as he stares up at the thick eyebrows, sharp nose and perfectly groomed stubble of a golden-eyed and fanged Derek Hale. - When son of the Alpha, Derek Hale, ends up in his bed in heat, Stiles decides to use it to his advantage and secure the Bite for his sick stepbrother. As he and his family are welcomed into the Hale pack, Stiles grows closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, but with the fanged Soulbite of a born wolf on Derek's neck, he knows he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. Derek has a Soulmate out there, and it definitely isn't Stiles.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

[masterlist link]

[liminalmemories21]

Just scrolled through to find where everyone was getting these prompts from, so I'm finally jumping on the bandwagon with:

“They didn't deserve you.”

@cecilyv said Buck talking to kitchen utensils, and then I went looking for new casserole pans, and I always think Tommy deserves a little bit of S1 Buck, who was not called firehose because he's a firefighter, and this happened.

***************

“They didn't deserve you.”

He bakes in his kitchen until he can’t stand being in his loft anymore.  Can’t stand looking at the spaces that Tommy had just started to fill, the spaces where he’d started to imagine Tommy always being.

Packs up flour and sugar and eggs and butter and goes to Maddie and Chim’s.  Bakes in their kitchen until he knows he’s overstaying his welcome.  Although Jee at least will love him as long as he keeps making pancakes and muffins for breakfast.

He doesn’t realize he’s taken their citrus squeezer until he’s baking at home again. Uses it to squeeze lemons for lemon poppy seed loaf, and limes for lime curd to go with the pavlovas he makes.  Chim asks if there’s a new baked good for every time Tommy bubbles him, and Buck conveniently forgets that it’s Chim’s citrus squeezer to begin with.

And then it’s been a month, and it’d be weird to take it back now.  Besides, it’s better than the one he has, and it’s a cheerful bright lime green color, and he likes the way it looks against his white tiles and white counters.  It’s possible, he considers, that Tommy had a point when he said that the loft was a bachelor pad.  Nobody with kids, with a family, lives somewhere this nondescript. Like there’s not a real person who lives here.

He buys new casserole pans with flower patterns on them just because he thinks they’re pretty.  Wonders if this makes him gay enough for Tommy -- mentally kicks himself, that’s such a cliche; Tommy would hate that.  Buys new dishes – fiestaware in bright yellows and reds and teals.

Goes on a spree over President’s Day weekend.  Buys throw pillows and new sheets and a new comforter.  Nothing white.  Nothing black.  Nothing even grey.

He’d never really thought before that he was trying to say something, or not say something with the way he decorated his loft.  Mostly he hadn’t thought about it all.  Ali had set the stage when she helped him furnish it, all he’d done in the years since is try not to mess it up.

He messes it up now.  Buys things because they spark fucking joy.  Calls May and asks if she wants to go flea market shopping with him.  Comes home with an afghan made of granny squares in soft blues and yellows and pinks.  

Tommy never sees any of it.  Obviously not in the loft, but also not in Eddie’s house, all still safely packed away into boxes.

Doesn’t see it until he’s helping him unpack in his new place.  One that’s all his.  One he picked on purpose, for himself.  If Tommy has thoughts about the shift in his personal aesthetic he keeps them to himself.

Doesn’t say anything until Buck’s making him dinner – the least he can do for helping him move, and if Buck would rather it was breakfast he was making Tommy, well they’re trying to move slower this time, and he thinks they’ll get there.

He’s moving around the kitchen, talking to himself, which is another new habit he’s picked up since Tommy last sat at his kitchen counter and sipped wine while Buck cooked.

He murmurs to his new stove, “come on, nice and gentle, just a simmer please, no scorching the sauce,” because it’s electric and temperamental as hell, and he’s springing for an induction stove as soon as he can afford to.

Mutters to the citrus squeezer, “Where are you now?  Are you hiding in here?”

Startles when Tommy says, amused and fond, “Do they talk back to you?  Have you gone full Beauty and the Beast?  Should I be worried the wardrobe is judging me?”

He snorts, holds up the citrus squeezer triumphantly, unearthed from where it had gotten trapped under the bench scraper.  

“It is…very neon.”  Tommy says diplomatically.  Tilts his head.  “Which errant villager got turned into that, do you think?”

“The gay one,” he deadpans, and Tommy snorts.  Let it sit a beat, because there’d been an element of truth there, and then says, “I think Jee chose it during her green phase.” They both wince at the assault on their eyeballs Bobby’s room had been. “But you’re too good for them, aren’t you?” Buck croons to the squeezer that sits in his hand idly, not answering. “They didn’t deserve you.”

“So you stole it from your sister,” Tommy concludes.  Buck nods, goes back to his fish.  “She won’t miss it?”

“Oh, Madddie would never go looking through my kitchen drawers.”

Tommy stares at him. Buck stares back, then can’t help it — smirks a little. Tommy’s eyes drop to his lips, just for a second, and Buck thinks, yeah, they’re gonna make it this time.  Tommy catches him watching, doesn’t bother to pretend he wasn't, and rubs his temples. “She found your ring cutter didn’t she?”

Buck laughs and nods.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I am just thinking of poor Stan feeling like you're out of his league! He's so much older than you, he has a criminal record, and all he is is a con man. He just doesn't undertaker how you look at him with so much love and adoration.

A/n: STOP I WANNA CRY 😩, poor Stan

It was obvious to everyone that you were out of his league. Well everyone but Mable thought he was, the 12 year old growing rather fond of the moment you said you liked her sweater.

He could practically hear her voice ringing in his ear.

'Everyone deserves love Grunkle Stan!'

But you two were far from being similar, you were rich, some distant repetitive of the Northwest and he conned people out of money, soft saps like you. He hated you, well he should have but he couldn't. Not with how kind you were.

Stan's heart couldn't help but race a little bit faster whenever he see's you defend Mable, couldn't help but love how you went along with whatever the two ideas the twins had cooked up. He really doesn't know when he fell for you since he tried to deny it for so long.

Maybe it was that little giggle you did during that whole Summerween fiasco when he stole that shit from the store or it could have been how you were the first person to side with him against that snot nose brat Gideon. Though it didn't matter really because it's not like he was going to mention it! Ever!

Well it would have been the case until Mable caught wind of it, he swore she was part bloodhound since he thought he hid his feelings so well.

But...if she hadn't stepped in then he'd never realize that you'd felt the same way.

Now that was something he could not wrap his head around, he felt like he had a heart attack when he found out because why? Why would you? How could you love him?

Stan was older than he was, he knew he wasn't some model but you were out of his league. You were younger than he was and beautiful, god's you were beautiful. He didn't know why....how you could ever look up at him with such love, such adoration because in his mind he doesn't deserve it.

He doesn't deserve you. Yet you stayed by his side through it all.

Through all the weird shit when you could have ran for the hills like most people in his life but you stayed, you stayed and that was something nobody could ever take from him.

You weren't blind to the looks, deaf to the whispers when people saw you and Stan out and about but it didn't matter to you. You were an adult, an adult that happened to be in their late 30's so his age was never an issue to you.

Sure he conned people, you saw that shit happen with your own eyes but it was the little things that nobody saw.

It was his insecurities, Stan thinking he's never enough, always believing he's living in someone's shadow.

It was how protective he was of Mable and Dipper, that he would do everything to keep them safe.

Not to mention how he looked during that whole zombie catastrophe, you never thought you'd seen something hotter than that.

No one saw how gentle he was with you, how he'd do his best to make you laugh with his corny jokes when you were upset, how he'd hold you when you'd two sit together then again you didn't care because know matter how much they talked, know matter how much they looked you would always love Stanly Pines.

Hovering from the door frame near the kitchen, Mable couldn't help but feel giddy. You had fallen asleep against Stan's chest, the man's arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he muttered in his sleep.

"Another match done!"

"Are you talking to yourself again?"

"Dipper shhhh! You'll wake them!"