Reblog This If You Want A Short/long Anonymous Message Saying What They Think Of You.

R E B L O G   T H E   P I G E O N .

SO EVERYONE WHOSE FAVORITE CHARACTER JACK IS/WAS, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KEEP WATCHING. THAT SHOW IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND IT DESERVES ALL THE LOVE IT CAN GET. 

DO IT FOR TRISTIN. OUR GENIUS COMPUTER HACKER. 

FOR JUSTIN. FOR MAKING US LAUGH ALL OVER AGAIN WITH BEING AN EXCELLENT BOZER. 

FOR MEREDITH. OUR BADASS BOSS WITH THE BIGGEST HEART. 

FOR DAVID. FOR MAKING US LOVE OUR LITTLE MURDOC SOCIOPATH. 

FOR REIGN. FOR MAKING NOT ONLY BOZER HAPPY BUT US AS WELL. 

FOR MR. LENKOV. FOR CREATING THIS GODDAMN SHOW. 

AND FINALLY DO IT FOR LUCAS. THE BEST MACGYVER SOMEONE COULD’VE ASKED FOR.

PLEASE CONTINUE TO WATCH THIS SHOW. I know it’ll take a while until we actually get to the point where it’s completely without George but PLEASE, IF I COULD ASK YOU FOR ONE FAVOR IT’S THIS. thank you. 

i have about 4000 pictures of roger taylor in my camera roll so if you want one in your inbox feel free to reblog

Always Here

It was late for him, but he knows it’s just early enough in the evening for you. His fingers hover over your contact. He shouldn’t. He should just put the phone down. It was just a long day of rehearsals that’s all. He just needed to sleep, right? That’s it just sleep. 

But there’s something in his chest; it claws, nails starting to pierce through his flesh. Or else, that’s how it feels. God, it’s happening again. He needs you. He doesn’t want to need you like it just after a few days away. But, goddamn it, he needs you. Fuck it he thinks and finally taps onto the video icon. The speakers vibrate as the call rings. Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up. If he could pray in a thousand languages all at the same time, he would. 

Finally, the call connects and you smile. “Hey, Shawn.”

“Hey-hey.” It comes out breathy. But at least he can speak. 

“What’s wrong?”

He can’t even put into words what’s wrong. Maybe it’s just too much. Maybe today was just awful. Maybe it’s been a few days of this fog of sadness that’s finally hit the hilt. “Just, please keep talking. About anything, it doesn’t matter.”

So you ramble. About your day, the cute dog you saw on the street. You talk about work. You can see the way his eyes are a little wild and he’s not breathing quite properly. But you know he’s not going to answer. So you look around your room and talk about how you need sweep and how you really want to get a pedicure, but there’s like no time. 

And then you collapse onto the couch and stare up at the ceiling. Shawn’s sitting against the headboard, pillow hugged close to his chest. “I wish I could float. Like just straight up levitate you know? Watch the world spin from the outside. Listen to the absence of sound for a hot three seconds.”

Shawn likes that thought for a hot three seconds. “But then I wouldn’t be able to hear your voice,” he whispers. 

“No, we’d have suits. Radios to each other. You’d be able to hear my voice.”

He nods. “I like the sound of that.”

“The fish miss you,” you whisper quietly, watching them swim in the tank. That gets him to laugh. Finally, something positive out of him. 

“Tell them I miss them too.”

“Hey, guys, Pops misses you. You hear that?”

“I think I’m going crazy.”

You look away from the orange and pale pink fish back to the phone screen. Shawn’s buried part of his face into the pillow, brown curls falling effortlessly onto his forehead. “No. You’re not.”

He shakes his head. His eyes sting just a little. “Like, I mean it. I just. Everyone notices. I’m going insane without you.”

He’s staying overseas to rehearse for tour until it starts. Then finally he’ll make his way back to the states. That’ll be a while. “You went down the rabit hole again, didn’t you?” You asks. He does this, searches his own name, looks at what everyone is saying about him. 

He knows it’s dumb. He knows he shouldn’t. But it’s just so damn tempting. “All everyone cares about is what other people are saying anyway. I have to be at least semi prepared for press. I need to know what they’re saying about me.” It’s his classic line. He looks so he’s prepared. 

He really looks because he’s scared. He needs a certain image and he’s terrified of disappointing people. He cares. Deeply in every sense of the word. To the point that it nearly costs him. “Shawn, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“It’s easy to say that.”

“I know that. I know it’s easy to say that. But god, you’re going to run yourself into the ground. You just left to prep tour. Nothing’s blown up.”

Something has. But you try to avoid mentioning that campaign, try to let that rest. Everyone else will surely exhaust it. “Everything’s blown up!” The words aren’t harsh. But his tone. He’s out of patience. He catches it, eyes widen, lips overflowing with apologies. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m so, so, sorry. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Hey, no, none of that,” you start softly. “You’re not an idiot. You just need to give yourself a break. Things are going to be okay.”

Will they? Will things be okay? He’ll be gone for so long. The only thing you’ll manage are FaceTimes, quick phone conversations, and some texts. It’s not the physical act of being on tour that’s scaring him. It’s the mental challenge. The stamina to keep going, to know that you aren’t going to leave him. But what if you do? What if you decide it’s all too much?

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Leave you? I’m not going to leave you.”

“You say that now. But this is months. Months of me being away.”

“If you think I’m going to sit around and mope all day, you’re wrong. Shawn, I have an entire life to live. In the wise words of Queen, I’ve got to keep myself alive. Sure I’ll miss you. Sure it’s still strange to come home to no guitar strumming. Sure it’s nice to not have to put out a frying pan once a week. But if you think for a second, I’m going to stop living you’re wrong. And you shouldn’t stop living either.”

He likes that you’re a little harsh–it’s real. You have a life to live. You’re not solely dependent on him. You get up, go to work. You tend to the fish. You go and see your friends. You have a whole life. That will keep on spinning. He just needs to stop his mind from spinning. 

“You know I care, right?” he asks. 

You nod. “Of course, I know.”

“Is it crazy to say that I really miss you? That I worked myself into a tizzy all because I couldn’t admit to myself that I missed you? Sounds crazy, eh?”

“No, it sounds like you Shawn. And it’s okay to miss me. Just don’t go to Twitter if you miss me. Call me.”

“I had tried to just distract myself. And then I was worried about what do people think of us. And then there were some nasty comments. And then I just–then I looked at what they were saying about me. And I–god, it was so stupid.”

“If it upsets you, if it hurts you, it’s not stupid.”

“My brain is quite the place to be, eh?”

“It’s okay. Brains are like that sometimes. But know I’m here. Every step of the way. I am right here for you. Always for you.”

Derek Hale Masterlist

Lees verder

My Masterlist

To Fall for a Friend

pairing: Stiles x Reader

an episode-by-episode Teen Wolf fic that incorporates the reader into the series

Friends to Lovers type beat.

Y/N and Scott McCall have known each other since birth, being as their families were close friends. They did everything together, including meeting and befriending Stiles Stilinski. Y/N only ever knew him as Scott’s good friend. But suddenly, sophomore year changes everything. She now has to juggle everything from newly-found popularity to exposure to the supernatural world and a new romance that she’s been wishing for since she was a child.

Season One -> (COMPLETE)

Season Two -> (COMPLETE)

on a hiatus until further notice

——————————————————————————

Upside Down Feelings

an episode-by-episode Stranger Things fic that incorporates the reader into the series

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (slow burn) also a not so casual fling with Eddie The Freak Munson

Enemies to Lovers type beat.

Y/N Henderson is your typical high school girl with typical problems; falling out with her best friend, an annoying little brother, and a chronically unpopular standing in school. Little did she know that after the disappearance of Will Byres, her world would be flipped upside down.

Season One -> (COMPLETE)

Season Two -> (COMPLETE)

Season Three -> (ONGOING UNTIL NOVEMBER)

come join our discord server for post notifications ->

—————————

Steve Harrington fics

Scary Movie with Steve Pt. 1 ->

Scary Movie with Steve Pt. 2 ->

Head Over Heels (one shot) ->

Peter Parker fics

Tighty Whiteys Part One ->

Tighty Whiteys Part Two ->

This is so fucking adorable IM SCREAMING AJJSKENSJSKSKWMSKD

home - s.r one shot

pairing: spencer reid and fem!reader summary: spencer and reader confess their love at a bau family beach vacation genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF warnings: mentions of alcohol, and bad writing word count: 1.2k prompt: “i’m not very good with words” (it's bolded in the fic!) a/n: this is my submission for @ellesgreenaway 1k writing contest! tbh i write like a 12 year old so please be nice-ish :) oh and i wrote this on impulse so this is not beta read! any mistakes are mine - getting days off when you worked for the bau was like trying to find a needle in a pile of needles. so naturally, it came as a surprise when rossi announced he was taking the team on a much needed vacation.

“oh, i’m just exhausted,” you announced to emily, who sat across from you, “this unsub really wouldn’t let us catch a break.”

“no kidding,” she chuckled. “i could really use a hot date with my jacuzzi.”

“i’m assuming i’m invited, prentiss,” morgan waltzed in the bullpen with a cup of coffee.

“you wish!” morgan's smile faded into a slight pout of his lips, eyebrows scrunched.

“reid and i are probably just going to argue about dr. who. isn’t that right, 187?” i called. spencer blushed from across the room, packing his satchel.

“well team, no need to fret.” rossi paraded into the bullpen, and with a flick of his wrist, revealed eight tickets. “we’re going to the bahamas!”

a series of chatter erupted across the room.

“jj and hotch, i’ve already called ahead to make sure the kids are taken care of. now all that’s left to do is pack. wheels up tomorrow at 8:30, no one better be late.” with that, rossi left everyone as he walked out of the doors of the fbi.

“bahamas? this is easily about to be the best trip i’ve ever taken,” morgan tells garcia.

“shut up and help me pick out my outfits. i’ll see you all at the airport, my fluffy friends!” with that, miss penelope garcia dragged derek by the hair out of the bullpen.

“spence, you wanna carpool?” i asked.

“always.”

the rest of the night was a blur. we said our goodbyes in partial shock because the idea that we were going on vacation was like splash of cold water to the face.

-

soon, the smell of coconut water hit us as soon as we reached the beach. the shimmering array of blues lay out across the sea, small white boats bobbing up and down with the waves. the sand glowed in its warmth as everyone basked in the sunlight.

“did you guys know there’s a 10% chance of us getting hit by a tsunami in the bahamas?” spencer mused, shaking the sand out of his shoe.

“good to know.” rossi stared at him quizzically.

“anyways, y/n, jj, let’s go get a drink! i hear the alcohol is great here,” emily takes my hand. we run with her to the nearest shack.

while hotch and rossi were putting up our beach equipment, garcia took the chance.

“derek! spencer! get over here,” she hissed, ducking beneath a bush.

“garcia?” spencer questioned, tilting his head. she glared at them, and they slowly crouched to her level.

she looked to the right, left, and right again, before making eye contact with them. “listen up. pretty boy, this is your chance to tell y/n how you feel.” she said, squinting through the leaves.

“h-how i feel? what do you mean, like how i feel about y/n? i think she’s fantastic, and beautiful, and gorgeous-”

“we get it, you love her,” derek slapped a hand over spencer’s mouth, “this is the perfect opportunity. reid, she’s been in love with you for years. tell her now.”

“but i only like her as a friend!” spencer rubbed small circles over his mouth.

“both of you were holding hands on the plane.”

“she was asleep on your shoulder,” garcia chimed in. “look, just do it now. go, my friend. your princess is waiting.” and with that, she pushed him out into the beach.

spencer felt lost in the forest of love. the mutual (or at least he hoped) pining began when you first joined the bau.

“the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. it's actually safer to kiss.” he stuttered, scratching his neck in embarrassment.

the team laughed softly as they watched the resident genius get flustered over the new agent.

“i’ll take you up on that later. spencer, was it?” you smiled, charmed. as hours passed, evening drew. you spent more and more time with emily and jj. you couldn’t pinpoint what was up with spencer. he was more nervous than usual, and it threw you off. he paced up and down the shoreline, occasionally calling out to garcia.

“sorry guys, hold my drink for me,” you say. “spence!” you ran towards him, almost spilling your drink on jj.

“y/n! hi, um what’s up?” he blinked, and forcibly smiled. you felt a little pang of sadness in you, but you played it off.

“what’s up is that you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you sigh playfully, “come, let’s go into the water.” grasping his hand, both of you ran out into the cold beach waters.

both of you were faced with a marvelous sunset in front, the orange and pink hues almost came straight out of a painting. it was chilly, and the palm trees swayed effortlessly with the wind. he simply marveled at your beauty, the smile on your face as you pulled him closer.

“i love you.” spencer blurted out quietly.

“i know that silly goose, i love you too,” you beam as you turn to face him, his body pressing up against yours.

“no, i mean i’m in love with you.” he paused and felt immediate regret following the silence.

“spencer, i don’t know what to say,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“y/n, i’m not very good with words,” he begins, “but i’ve been in love with you since i met you. i’m in love with your smile, your hair, i’m in love with the way you bite your lip when you’re deep in thought. i’m in love with the way you hold my hand when i’m nervous on cases, a-and quite frankly i’m in love with every part of you, and i really think you should know.” he pushes away and stares out into the vast sea.

“well that’s good because i’m in love with you.” you pull him back to you and place his hands on your waist. “i never wanted to confess because you, my fbi genius, are way out of my league. i was afraid you would never like me back.” you admit. “but to be honest, i’ve fell for you over this past year, and i am now blessed with the privilege of dr. reid being in love with me.” you give him a playful push to his chest and he laughs and looks down.

“hey lovebirds! we done yet?” jj calls. everyone looks at you, happy for the blossoming relationship. derek pulls penelope in for a hug, proud of their work.

“five more minutes!” you yell out. you both laugh, and he gives you a soft kiss.

but right then and there, it truly didn’t matter how harsh the wind was, or how freezing the waves that were hitting his calves relentlessly were. you gave him the comfort he’d need for years to come. kind of like sipping hot chocolate on a winter evening, playing chess. or maybe it was enjoying a laugh with the team, marshmallows over the bonfire. sometimes it was as simple as melting in the embrace of a towel, fresh out of the dryer after a shower. you gave spencer the feeling of a home, and that was all he ever needed.

Do you really want to die?

Or do you just want a home

On the edge of a forest

Surrounded by pines

Sitting on your red cottage porch

With a cat on your lap

Watching the kids play

In the fields and the garden

One long brown dirt road

Connecting you to the city?

Do you really want to die?

Or do you just want a house

Overlooking the beach

And the pink and yellow sunset

You dressed in emerald silk

Swimming to the edge of the horizon

Yet still smelling a campfire

And tonight you and your lover

Will intertwine fingers

As the sky grows dark?

Do you really want to die?

Or do you just want an apartment

In the city that never sleeps

Where your arms will droop over

The railing of your balcony

The taste of cannabis lingering

Listening to distant parties

The rustling of a stranger in your bed

You being one speck of the skyline

Made entirely of people?

Do you really want to die?

Do you really hate the cardboard

That your house is made of?

Or do you hate your neighbors

Do you hate the pavement

Do you hate the begging?

I want to jump into my car

Leave this life behind

See the sights and the people

In the pictures I keep painting

With you.

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