multifandomimaginesforevery-blog

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a long way from home | part 1/?| a walking dead fanfic

summary: Coraline Brums is a genus Astrologist who get’s caught in the middle of Rick Grime’s life when she offers to help find his family along with her own. She is just an innocent civilian trying not to let the apocalypse change her but her need for survival might do just that.

a.n: hello everyone who has stumbled upon this fanfc. It will take place from season 1 till whenever I see fit for it to end. It is either going to be a Rick love story or a Negan one, I haven’t made up my mind. If you are looking for a quick read then this is not for you because I want it to be long. If you want something quick you can request it in my ask box. Enjoy the story!

this chapter is rated PG-13 so read at your own risk!

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    When the dome to the observatory opens, it’s like coming home or running into the arms of someone you love. My brother Mason likes to say that I was born into the wrong species. That my soulmate resides somewhere in space. That I spend more time looking at space than I do at earth. But he’s wrong. If I were to be born an alien it would be different, I wouldn’t see space the way I see it now. It’s the fact that everyday I go to work I get to travel to different planets, stars.     Ever since I’ve been little I’ve always dreamt of getting a closer look into the unknown. That’s why I became an astronomer, to escape from earth. It took a total of 10 years of college, not to mention the two years of school I just finished to get my associates degree in diesel mechanics.     You see, I’ve always been a pretty ordinary person. I grew up with both of my parents in a small city and went to a public school. I’ve never gotten along with my parents very well. They’re both dead now.     I’ve always been really outgoing, a class clown, optimistic in a way that's almost ignorant. Almost. I was everybody's friend. I grew up with my older brother, who I’ve never gotten along with. He is not outgoing and is embarrassed to go out in public with me in fear of  being judged. It’s been that way since we were young. My parent always tried to convince me otherwise but it was obvious. He would never have friends over to the house. Matter of fact, he was never home himself; barely able to be around me. So despite thinking I grew up normal, I know that there is something different about me, I’m just not sure what that is. But family is family and we’d both do anything for each other. At least I would him.

    After I finish some papers on the satellite I’ve been assigned to babysit I close the dome after getting another good look at my favorite planet, Jupiter. Once it’s completely closed I heave a sad sigh. Before I can go down the stairs I hear the emergency sirens blare throughout Cynthiana, Kentucky.     Confused I open the dome again, warm air hitting my face, blowing my wavy, dark red hair out of my face. After my parents death a month ago I dyed it red and got it cut into an even bob with my bangs. I grab the weakest telescope off of it’s stand to get a good look at the city that is about a mile away from me. I push my glasses up into my hair and look into the scope.     Even from here I can hear the sirens of firetrucks, police cars, and ambulances. When I look into the scope I can see cars lined up on the highway, heading towards the town over.     People are standing outside of their cars. What the hell is going on? I jerk the scope away from my eye when I hear a sonic boom coming from the city. The large explosion came from the jet from above the city. The large mushroom of fire raises from the middle of the city I was raised in. The park I used to run away to when thing would become too much with my parents.     I realize that my brother is at home right now, still in the city. We don’t live near the explosion but I have no idea what’s going on down there. I quickly close the dome, grab my bag and leave. I shove the telescope in my belt loop, just in case. I run down the stairs quickly, the tail of my lab coat whipping behind me. When I reach outside I turn around and fumble to lock the Observatory.     I quickly get into my red jeep (that my father kindly left in his will) and stick my keys into the ignition. Throwing the key to the Observatory in the glove box I race out of there. I don’t even bother with the highway knowing that it will be packed full of vehicles ready to leave Cynthiana for some unknown reason. I tap my hands anxiously on the wheel as I drive into the city, or should I say chaos? To my left there is a group of people with blood covering them trying to corner a couple that looks terrified.     I usually would have stopped and done something but in this case I couldn’t, seeing as this was happening around every corner I take. When I reach about a block away from my house I see a flash of blue before the world turns black.

    I wake up with a gasp. Looking around cautiously I see a blue Cadillac that I smashed into. Oh shit, I hit the driver's side. I see a body slumped against the steering wheel but I can’t tell if they’re still breathing or not. I open the door and step out. Hit by a sudden nausea and dizziness I fall over and heave out stomach acid.     Stomach acid? That doesn’t make sense, I’ve eaten today. Then it dawns on me; I’ve no idea how long I’ve been out. Minutes, Hours, Days? I check my watch but I see it’s been broken during the crash. It’s early morning, and the streets are deserted. Something makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s the noise. It’s gone completely silent. There are no birds chirping or the usual buzz of the cars on the highway that’s nearby. I can still see the smoke rising from where the explosion had happened.     Slowly I stand to my feet, hand braced against the door of my truck. I swallow my own spit to soothe my raw throat. That’s when I feel it, sticking out of my stomach. I didn’t feel it per-say, on my stomach. In fact, I don’t feel anything on the whole right side of my torso. I bring my hand down to feel the long hunk of metal that is sticking out of my lower right side. There’s a bit of blood surrounding the area but the metal is blocking off most of the flowage. I can feel all the colour leave my face. I can feel myself going into shock.      After twenty minutes of just standing here, trying not to go into shock, I take a scarf that I found under my seat and tie it above the wound as tight as I can. I curse under my breath. I attempt to walk again, finding great difficulty in keeping my balance. I remember my dad had a limp so he kept a cane behind his seat. I find it with little to no problem. This should do, it’ll have to. Before I leave I grab the key to the observatory and throw it in my bag and begin the one block hike to my house.     When I pass the Cadillac the driver to the car, who I had forgotten about, starts to growl and snap it's teeth at me. I begin to walk closer cautiously. “Hey, is everything alright?” I yell out, only a yard away. I notice the pale, veiny skin before I notice his pale eyes. “Jesus.” I mutter. I must be really losing it.     I take my cane and poke his (it’s?) face. He snaps his teeth towards me as if he were trying to eat me. “What the hell?” I speak quietly. The seatbelt is holding it hostage so I leave him where he is.     I begin to cry softly as I walk towards my house. I think I killed a man. My house is unharmed and empty. I checked all the rooms in the house and there is no sign of my brother. I sigh in relief when I find all his clothes missing and a bunch of food from the pantry gone too. He ran. My brother is resourceful, he made it through all the chaos, I know it. What I am sure of is that I need to go to the hospital.     I notice my brother took his car (which is a good sign he's alive.) I walk to the garage with great difficulty. I know that there's my fathers Harley in here somewhere. Thankfully I find it at the front in all it's red glory.  After a couple weak tries of starting trying to start it up it comes to life. I almost fall over attempting to walk it our but eventually I get the strength to kick off and head to the hospital.

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SPN hiatus creations | Week Two | SPN Music Moments

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AU Meme | You and Harry hate each others guts, until he starts falling for you

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AU Meme | You and Harry are best friends, but he slowly falls in love with you.

» requested

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Imagine this is your first view of your new neighbor from your apartment window.

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Insomnia-Draco Malfoy

By: Kyla

Most people assumed that sixth year would be great, including me. But we were deceived. Ever since Harry had told me about horcruxes I haven’t been able to sleep. I’d get maybe three hours on a good night. It’s not the fact I can’t go to sleep; it’s the fear of what lies in my dreams. The truth. Fearing that the awful imagines would come true, I stay awake and roam the schools.We used to not be able to roam the schools at night, which still stands, but is not enforced as heavily as it used to be.

I look at the clock on my side table to see it’s 3:47 a.m. I wait till it’s 3:55 to do my nightly routine. These last moments when Filtch passes through the halls before going to bed are the slowest. Not being able to wait much longer, I lunge out of the bed and run down the stairs.

Turn after turn around the corridors I finally make it to the hall I’ve been waiting to come to. I look at the blank wall and think. I need a place to practice quidditch. I can hear the door appearing, even with my eyes closed, and something else. Or someone? I open my eyes just in time to see a flash of blonde. Before I know it I’m being pinned against the wall with so much force I can feel my breathing hitch in my throat. I gasp out, looking for breathe but it’s not there. With my constant thrashing and the persons tight grip around my airway I can’t see who it is.

I stop for a moment and think my way through because fighting back isn’t working. I get and idea. I drop my hands from theirs and pretend to go limp. They let go and I fall to the ground. As the seconds tick by I peek through my eyes to see an ankle in front of my face. Adrenaline racing, I grab it and pull hard before they could do anything. I reach for my wand to find it’s not there. How could I forget it? I keep ahold of his ankle. I shoot up and lunge for his arms. When I grab them I pull my knees’ on each side of his body and pin his arms under my knees. I hear a grunt and finally look to see my attackers face. The boy I looked down on is Draco Malfoy. Slytherin Prince. But I have an advantage. I’m a nobody. A nobody he’s never seen before.

Both of us are red in the face. “Why’d you attack me?” I growl through my teeth. He sneers at me before grunting. “Answer me!” I whisper yell while bending his arm in a strange direction.

“I thought you were someone else.” He answered curtly. His eyes throw daggers at me and his cheeks flush in embarrassment of being defeated by a girl.

“Who pissed you off enough to make you want to kill them?” More calm this time I take the scowl of my face, but his is still very present.

“That’s none of your-Ow!” I cut him off by twisting his arm again. He growls. “I can’t tell you!” The pain on his face is evident. I pause a moment to look at his face. I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looks like I’ve been feeling lately. “What?” His voice raises another octave. I pause to think a moment.

“Do you want to play quidditch with me?” I put a smile on my face at his perplexed look. I released myself from him and stood up. He sat up on his elbows and gave me an incredulous look. I stick my hand out for him to take. He puts his hand out but hesitates. I meet him halfway and grab his hand. It’s warm. Sometimes people just need to be met halfway. And that’s exactly what Draco needed. A friend who actually cared for him. He realized this as I pulled him to his feet.

“My name is Y/N.”

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Stop Kicking My Seat

How amazing would it be to end up as seat mates with him?? Gah, don’t get me started. Want more short stories like this? Check me out on Fiverr! ;)

Cheers, 

Katje xx

     You’re on a plane, travelling alone to go visit a friend. You get nervous and edgy on planes - not at the idea of crashing, but at the idea of having to stay still for a long time. You were lucky enough to score an aisle seat, and knowing you can get up gives you some peace of mind. Still, the plane is barely gliding along the tarmac and you’re already tense and irritable. To make matters worse, some idiot behind you keeps kicking your seat. You didn’t see who sat down behind you because you were too busy digging through your purse, but you’re assuming it’s either a kid or just someone with a complete lack of common courtesy. At first you let it go because you thought they were still just getting situated, but this is getting ridiculous. 

     You’ve started keeping track, and this moron has kicked your seat 12, no wait, ugh, 13 times. You’re mentally preparing your attitude face and a comment to get anyone to knock it off. The plane finally goes airborne and the number of kicks has reached 17 when the seatbelt light turns off. You turn around, eyebrow cocked, poised to put this person in their place. “Excuse me.” You say sternly. A pair of startled green eyes meets yours, and you suddenly wish you could hit the rewind button. Those green eyes belong to the one and only Robbie Kay. The Robbie Kay you’ve been gawking at for months on Instagram and practically stalking on Twitter. “Yes?” He says, amused by the fact you seem caught off guard. You soften your tone, but keep an attitude. “You’ve kicked my seat about 20 times. Any chance you could be a little more careful?” Robbie Kay or not, he’s still annoying. 

     “Have I? I am so sorry love.” His English accent pretty much makes up for everything. “It’s these long legs of mine. They tend to get in the way.” He laughs nervously. You finally soften your expression. “No worries. Can’t say I have that problem, but I tend to shift a lot too. I get pretty nervous on planes.” You say, trying to make up for how harsh you were before. “I do too, but spare me the speech about how much more likely it is to get in a car accident on the way to the airport than it is for the plane to crash. It’s more the idea that I’m stuck here for several hours.” “Yeah, same here.” You lightly laugh and then go to turn back around, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

     “Listen, I feel like a right idiot. Can I buy you a drink?” He says, raising an eyebrow. There’s that signature move. Apparently it’s not just for the camera. You can buy me a drink any time. You think. But what comes out is, “Oh, you really don’t have too. It’s really no big deal.” “Well, truth is, seeing as we both get anxious on planes, maybe we could pass the time with some conversation? I could really use someone to talk to, to be honest.” “Hmm…” You say, smirking and raising an eyebrow. “Do I still get that drink?” “Of course.” He says with a wink. He’s sitting in the aisle seat, so you take the middle seat next to him. “I’m Robbie.” He says, extending a hand. “Y/N, and I maaaayyy or may not have already known that.” You joke. He laughs and says, “Well then, Y/N. What’s your poison?” “Gin tonic, if you please.” He stops the flight attendant and orders for the two of you. 

    “So, Robbie Kay.” You say, exaggerating his name for effect. “Shouldn’t you be in first class?” “Well, yes. I should be, seeing as that’s what I paid for. There was a mixup with the airline and I ended up here, with less leg room. Hence, the incessant kicking of your chair. Sorry about that, again.” He says with a slight wince. “No worries.” You say with a playful smile. You ease into conversation, talking about where you’re from, hobbies, etc. On more than one occasion he holds eye contact with you and the chemistry between you is undeniable. After a couple drinks, “Okay so, why don’t we play a game?” he says mischievously. “Oo what kind of game?” “Well,” he leans in closer as if telling a secret and lowers his voice. Your eyes can’t help but travel down to his smile and then back up to his eyes. “We’ll sort of, observe, our fellow passengers and then come up with backstories for them. Like a narrative of their lives.” “That sounds highly entertaining. I’ll go first.” You look around, ready to do your best improvising.

     “Okay, see that guy over there? The one with the red flannel?” You lean in as you covertly point to your subject. “Oh wow, sorry. I’m going to sound like a total creeper right now, but what perfume are you wearing?” You chuckle slightly, “Um, Viva la Juicy. It’s my favourite.” “I think it’s my favourite too.” He says with a laugh. “Thank you.” You purse your lips slightly and raise an eyebrow. “Oh right! The game. Um, yes, that bloke over there. What’s his story, then?” “Well, as a child he wanted to be an artist. Picasso’s blue period really left an impression on his 10-yr-old mind. But see, his dad wasn’t supportive and he was pressuring him to take over the family business when he grew up. The family… tax service business. He did that for 5 years after college and then one day he just…. snapped.” You sigh for effect. “He got two tattoos, bought a bunch of beanies, and left a note on the fridge that said, ‘I really just need to focus on my art right now.’ Now he’s heading to New York to do set design for experimental off-off-off Broadway shows.” 

    You look over at Robbie to find his mouth open in surprise. “That was really impressive. Wow. The scary part is I think it could actually be true.” You can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing you impressed him. “Alright, Kay, you’ve got some big shoes to fill. Your turn. Who’s the target?” You go back and forth like that several times, struggling not to bug the people around you with all your snickering. At one point he makes you laugh so hard you laugh into your iced water and it sprays up at your face. He’s pointing at you, nearly in tears, and you drape your head over his shoulder in embarrassment. You both finally calm down and you say, “Hey, I’m sorry I was so rude at first.” “Oh no, don’t apologise. I’m sorry I was kicking your seat!” “Really? Because I’m not.” You say. Bold move, you think. “Maybe I’m not so sorry either…” You both just stare at each other for a few long seconds like a couple of lovestruck teenagers. He breaks the silence first to lighten the sudden tension. “I mean, do you know how miserable I would have been without you here to keep me company?” “Ohhh I get it. So I’m just a nice little diversion for you. Fine, that’s just fine.” You feign offense as you cross your arms and look out the window.

     The captain announces over the loudspeaker that the descent is beginning. You glance over at Robbie and his expression is nothing less than disappointed. You keep conversation going to take your mind off of the fact that you’ll be parting ways soon. You’re finally off the plane and when he nervously says, “Mind if I walk with you to baggage claim?” “Of course!” “Of course you do mind or of course I can?” He says, nudging your shoulder. You laugh and keep walking, but he stops you by gently pulling your arm back. “Hey listen, Y/N.” He says, hesitating and looking down. “Yeah, Robbie?” You say, hoping you know what’s coming next. “I know you’re here to see your friend and I’ve got my convention and interviews and all that, but I’d really hate for this to be the last time I see you. May I get your number? Or Facebook? Or just something so we don’t lose touch? Even if I don’t get to see you here, I’d love to see you again. Maybe I could take you out to dinner or something?” He says, looking back up at you, his usually mischievous  expression now softened and searching your eyes for the answer he wants. 

     You’re enjoying making him wait, and pause for a moment. “I’d like to see you again too.” You finally say. “But before I give you my number, you have to promise me one thing.” You say quietly, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, anything.” He says. You know you’re making him nervous. “Just don’t kick my feet under the table.” You say with a smirk. He raises an eyebrow, matching your expression. “I think I can manage that.” You type your info into his phone and grab your bags. “Well then, I suppose this is goodbye. Only for now, though.” He says, stepping closer and setting his bags down. “Glad I met you, Robbie.” He pulls you in for a hug, one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulder. You close your eyes for a moment when he surprises you by leaning down and giving you a peck on the cheek. “So am I.” 

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Nothing Ventured

Title: Nothing Ventured Author: Jess (sexuallydisoriented) Rating: T Notes: Loosely based on “Imagine winning Reid in a people auction organized by Garcia as a BAU-sponsored charity event, and he is just as nervous and excited as you.” Triggers: Light alcohol mention later, but that’s it.

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There?

A/N: I got a request about the team going to a bar and karaoke being involved. This… is really long. This is also… really smutty. #sorrynotsorry Please enjoy. I’m going to go take a nice, long, very cold shower. Link to the song referenced here. (Edited to actually link the song…#blonde)

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Ice Cream Sundaes (Let’s Go, pt2)

Request: Could you do a part two to “Let’s Go” in which the reader and Spencer end up in Y/Ns apartment and they put their creative concoctions of sundaes on one another

A/N: I’m quite proud of this. Read alone. And only if you’re over 18 please.

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*A/N: Sorry this is so long omg! Also Y/B/N means your bosses name* Y/B/N: And this is where you will be working, that’s gonna be your working partner Y/N. Say hi Y/N! Y/N: *isn’t focusing cause your working* Y/B/N: *shakes head* She’s (or He’s) really nice she (or he) is just really focused, here I’ve got this *sling shots rubber band to your head* Y/N: *puts hand to back of head* Ow! What the heck Y/B/N! Y/B/N: *laughs* This is PJ he is going to work with you on projects, I’ve got to run but you two can get yourselves acquainted *Leaves* PJ: Are you really the Y/N? As in the famous film maker Y/N? Y/N: *smiles* Yeah that’s me! Are you the PJ? Like the short film maker PJ? PJ: *shocked* You…you know me? Y/N: DUH your work is amazing! ~~~~~2 Months Later~~~~~~~ PJ: Y/N! *rolls over to you in spinning chair* whatcha working on Y/N: It’s a secret so go away *pushes chair away* PJ: *pouts* your no fun…I’ll show you what I’m working on Y/N: *pauses to think* okay! *laughs and rolls over to his work place*

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Kiss Me

Imagine: Peter demanding you to kiss him.

“Why do you care so much?” you scream at Peter, running a hand through your hair. Peter had asked you about the necklace you wear, which was given to you by a boy back where you lived before the shadow dropped you onto Neverland. He wanted to know why you care so much about relationships and all of that.

“Because I can?” Peter laughs, leaning against a tree.

“Wow, I was expecting something more… sarcastic or king-like. Have you lost your touch, Pan?” you question, cocking an eyebrow.

“Kiss me,” Peter says suddenly, smiling and tilting his head up to show dominance.

“What?” You gawk at him, mouth agape.

“Kiss me,” he repeats, trapping you against a tree. You can’t help but look at his pink, plump, kissable lips. To make it worse, he licks his lips and looks up into your eyes.

“W-Why?” You question, deciding to play with him back. Horribly, but it’s a start.

“Ah, you know I don’t like waiting. Or being told no,” Peter warns you, “so, are you going to kiss me, or not?” Peter cocks his perfect eyebrow, causing you to melt. Damn him. You growl inside your head before plunging your lips on Peter’s. With him being, well, Peter, you expected him to be a bad kisser because he’s never kissed anyone before, since there’s no other girls on the island, and he doesn’t seem like he likes other guys. But calling Peter an amateur… was a complete lie. He was like a God, molding his lips with yours perfectly. He deepens the kiss, causing you to be putty in his hands. He may be evil, but at this moment, you were all his. He had you under his total control. And the worst thing was… was that you loved it.

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Theory on Y/N and Peter Pan

Whenever I want to read some Peter Pan imagines, I always end up disappointed because people tend to write Y/N as this innocent, naive, damsel in distress and sweet girl and that gets…on my….. nERVES. I am honestly so tired of this.

I don’t think that’s the kinda girl Peter would go for. Like, at all. Not that nice girls aren’t good characters. All in all, I just think this persona doesn’t fit in this particular situation.

Just imagine that:

- Y/N attacking Pan the first time she runs into him, because that’s the logic fucking reaction when you wake up in an unknown place and meet a creepy stranger who wiggles his eyebrows.

- Y/N not caring not having girl stuff on Neverland, or even privacy because when you’re in a tough situation you gotta toughen up, and survival tops comfort

- Y/N NOT playing the ‘mom’ with the Lost Boys, or cooking, or singing the boys to sleep for the sole reason that she is the only girl, bc that promotes gender roles and it goes against everything we girls fight for, DUH

- Y/N learning how to fight (good) and not stopping to annoy Felix and Pan until she gets private lessons, and accepting beng beaten to a pulp if that helps her improve and become able to take care of herself because depending on the boys to survive is humiliating for her and burdening for them.

- Y/N being confident and not taking the boys or Pan’s shit and talking back when they are rude.

- Y/N always not-so-gently reminding the boys (including Pan) that they ain’t a bunch of animals and they gotta behave and use their brains instead of their hands

- Y/N winning Peter’s respect BEFORE winning his heart, because she can stand up for herself and put him back in his place when he crosses a line or orders her around, and that’s what a healthy, long lasting relationhip is built on: respect. Repeat after me: R.E.S.P.E.C.T

- Y/N not blushing, or stuttering, or looking down. Y/N grinning and flirting and playfully teasing Peter whenever she gets the occasion just bc she can and it makes him lose his composure bc damn nobody else ever did this

- Y/N being a fucking badass who can kick ass and be feminine and be Peter’s equal because that’s the only kind of girl I can picture him with: someone who’s on the same level as him (maybe not on magical terms bc he’s too pwerful) but in spirit

Why y’all turning Peter into this beautiful lil cinnamon roll that he obviously isn’t? Stop writing Peter as a bad guy who becomes nice for Y/N’s lovely eyes. Write about a badass, murderous, dark minded Y/N. Write about a hot couple of villains who defeat the heroes for once. Dammit.

Honestly, give me an OC like that and I will read the shit outta it.

Until then, I’m just gonna have to write some myself.

You can read my work here “Let Us live” : Part ½; Part 2/2

And In the Name of Love: Here

Once Upon in Neverland: Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy and don’t forget to reblog to share if you liked it!

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Submitted by bookerdefay.

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Submitted by anonymous.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry who are you.”

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Neville: These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes

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