Thank You, Game Freak, For All These Years Of Fun, And For The Many More Surely To Come!

Thank you, Game Freak, for all these years of fun, and for the many more surely to come!

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We Need to Talk

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 904

The Request: Can I have one with James McAvoy where we’re dating and my best friend, Steven, is on a movie with him and after a couple of weeks he starts rumors that I am cheating on James but they’re not true. James believes them and we break up. One day, I am on the set (as a make-up artist) and James hears Steven say that it was all fake and he fights with him and I break them up and at home I clean his wounds and with a lot of fluff?

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Request for @anyfandomimaginex

“Y/n, we need to talk,” James’s voice told you over the phone, and you froze. In your experience, nobody ever used that phrase to say a good thing. Nervously, you replied.

“What is it, James?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level.

“What is it!? You dare ask me that question?” he was very obviously angry, and you didn’t know why. You felt like you were supposed to, though.

“Um... Yes. I don’t understand what your problem is. I’m sorry if I did something wrong, but tell me so I can fix it,” you mumbled into the receiver.

You could hear his scoff even from over the phone.

“You can’t fix this, I’m sorry. Your friend Steven told me that you’ve been cheating on me for a while now, and he has no reason to lie,” you could now hear a broken note in his voice, like he was holding back tears.

“We are over,” he declared and terminated the call. You just sat there, unable to comprehend what had happened, and you dialled James’s number again, hoping for an apology, a chance to let you explain that you were definitely not seeing another man, but he didn’t pick it up.

For the next couple of weeks, neither he nor Steven answered your calls or messages. You were both confused -because why would a man you’d known from school and called himself your best friend would do this to your relationship?- and determined to confront them both when you would be called on set for ‘Welcome to the Punch’, the action movie they were shooting.

When you finally were called on set as a make-up artist, you were relieved. You were finally going to have a chance to talk to James and Steven, demand explanations from the latter and ask the former if you could continue your relationship, because you’d been going strong for some while now and you loved him a lot.

You walked on set, hoping to catch sight of James first, so you could rush up to him and explain your side of the story, but you were unfortunate. Steven was there, and apparently he was waiting for you because he greeted you immediately.

“Oh, hello,” you huffed out a reluctant greeting and glared at him.

“Why so hostile?” Steven asked confidently as if he himself had done nothing wrong.

You were angry; extremely so. After two weeks of being unable to do something about the situation James, you had every right to be mad at the person responsible.

“Are you kidding me? What you told James about was absolutely awful and untrue!” you almost shouted at him.

The idiot just shrugged. “It was just some fun, sheesh. Why are you acting that way? I thought he’d have figured out by himself that you’d never cheat on him. Chill,” he said and you were about to reply with a string of curse words, but you were interrupted by a smooth, Scottish accent.

“Fun? You orchestrated all that for ‘fun’?” asked James’s incredulous voice from behind you. He quickly walked up to where you and Steven were standing and glared at the other man.

“That was unacceptable! You know I can get you fired, right? You’re not even important around here! You’re a waste of money and space,” James half-screamed at Steven. Even he had the good sense to look chastised by James’s fury.

“Do you have any idea what your stupid, moronic antics put both me and Y/n through?” James asked. “Fun,” he scoffed mockingly.

Steven didn’t say a thing to defend himself, but James was still angry. He launched himself at the other man, probably intending to land a punch or two, but Steven was quicker and punched him in the upper arm. You could see a small tear in the fabric of James’s shirt from where Steven’s hand had grabbed on tightly and pulled, and you thought you saw a bit of blood too. Steven was about to kick James when you stepped between them, glaring up at you old best friend and slapping him hard across the face, so hard that there was an angry red mark on his skin.

“Go,” you said authoritatively, and he did. Quickly, you turned to James.

“Let’s go to your hotel room, I can fix you up there and you can get another shirt, okay?” you asked him softly and mutely, he nodded.

The car ride there was silent but, once you were in the safety and silence of his room and you had dressed his small wound from where Steven’s fingernails had scraped his skin, he kissed you. Just like that, and out of the blue. You didn’t complain, instead kissing him back.

“I’m so sorry for believing that moron. It’s just... I thought he was your friend, and I didn’t think he’d be lying,” he sighed and grabbed hold of your hand.

“Will you forgive me for being stupid?” he asked, looking at you apologetically with his angelic blue eyes wide.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you muttered in response, kissing him again. “I love you, and you know that,” you said with a soft smile.

“Me too,” he replied happily and hugged you tightly. “Thank you,” he said, “And I’m sorry for everything I put you through by refusing to listen,” he added.

“It’s all right, James,” you mumbled, kissing him. “I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

Heya! I just wanna say I'm in love with your blog, you're an amazing writer and you're in all the fandoms I'm in, which basically makes your blog my paradise. You're immensely talented, keep writing like a pro! :)

Wow, thank you so, so much for your wonderfully kind words, I'm unable to find words to express my gratitude because there's just too much of it. Thank you again!

Trust Me

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 1,044

Summary: You are an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D. and are assigned on the case of Loki. What will your final judgment be?

Warnings: N/A, I believe.

A/N: Happy birthday to Tom Hiddleston! <3

Also, this is a bit irrelevant to the events of Thor: The Dark World; my apologies for that.

“I don’t understand,” the clipped, slightly accented and very much annoyed voice of Loki resonated in the empty room, and he fixed his piercing glare on you and his brother Thor, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat yet returned the Trickster’s cool look.

“I have paid my dues. I have understood the weight of my crimes and I have spent a sufficient amount of time in prison, thinking of what I did wrong and doing everything else expected of an inmate like me. Now that you need my assistance, why won’t you just let me out?” he insisted on the same argument he had gone over numerous times but always used slightly different words for. He enunciated every word clearly, as if he was speaking to two rather stubborn children instead of Thor and an experienced S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

“We told you, Loki. You are too dangerous to be trusted. We just need the information,” Thor’s deep, loud, voice boomed and echoed in the confined space of the room you were in.

Loki frowned, his eyes scanning you carefully for anything that might be useful to him, and you allowed yourself to break character long enough to shrug apologetically at him, indicating that it wasn’t in your power to decide about his future.

Loki and you had a rather... interesting relationship that deviated from the usual one between an officer of the law and a criminal. You knew there was good inside him; you knew he had changed, and you knew that well. It had been only last night when, anxious about his interview with you and Thor, he had confessed all of his fears and insecurities to you and kissed you senseless.

There was no hint of the previous night’s desperation and vulnerability in him now. His posture was straight, regal -that of a king’s- and his expression was neutral, almost bored.

“I don’t have the information,” Loki said sharply, the sound of his voice drawing you back to reality. “But I have a way of finding it that would require countless hours of research -and that could only be possible if I were free to go to the palace library,” he said, meaningfully rattling the handcuffs that tied his hands together.

Thor and you shared a look at that and, without a word, you got up and walked out of the room.

“Whatever shall we do, Lady Y/N? I am afraid that Loki is right -we need his help, and it is obvious that the only way to ensure that is to free him. But he is dangerous, and both Asgard and Midgard alike would be enraged if they found out about this. The threat of another of his attacks is too big, and the fear too fresh in the people’s minds. We can’t just cut him loose,” Thor said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t want for my first big and crucial decision to be a failure, but I also cannot let this mission fail, and without Loki’s help, disaster would be imminent.”

You thought for a bit. You, of course, wanted Loki’s freedom. You’d seen a reformed Loki in the cage the previous night, and you wanted the world to understand that he indeed was different.

“Nobody said that the world has to know. And we don’t have to cut him loose either. He asked for a way out of that cage, but any place -if guarded properly- can become a prison. You can convert his rooms into a heavily guarded holding place and you can gradually give him more and more freedom until he either convinces you of his change or gives you a reason to throw him back in jail,” you suggested, and Thor’s frown turned into a smile.

“That’s brilliant -and exactly what we are going to do. But I have to ask a small favour of you. Could you watch him while he does his research? You’re intelligent enough to keep him under control,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Certainly. It’d be my pleasure.”

Half an hour later, you were standing near a table inside a vast, seemingly endless, library with Loki next to you. You were so caught up in the mystery and sheer mass of the books that surrounded you that at first you didn’t notice Loki’s piercing gaze.

“What is it?” you asked him, and he continued to look at you in that way that made you feel as if he was reading you. In the end, frustrated, he heaved a sigh.

“It must’ve been you who convinced Thor to give me this -however limited- amount of freedom,” he said, and you smiled, understanding the underlying message. ‘Thank you.’

“I just... I trust you,” you replied, and he chuckled.

“Not a wise decision on your part. I’m a criminal.”

It was your turn to fix him with a piercing glare. “Yes, you are, but I believe you’ve seen that what you did wasn’t right. I believe that a part of you -if not all of you- has changed,” you said firmly, moving closer to him. “I always had my doubts when it came to what everyone said. Last night only helped reassure me. Loki, give me no reason to distrust you, and I won’t,” you told him, and you were happy to see a small, rare, smile appear on his lips.

“Last night... it was good,” you said hesitantly, and his smile turned into a more predatory one. He walked closer to you, backing you up against the table and trapping you between its cold surface and his body.

“But this night can be better,” he muttered, leaning closer to you and pressing his lips on yours. His tongue licked your lower lip and you gave a small moan, opening your mouth to allow him access. The kiss was heated, passionate and needy, very much unlike the previous night’s tender caresses.

“I like the way you trust me,” he muttered as he pulled away, and you barely managed to stifle a whimper at the sight of his heated gaze.

“Always,” you muttered back, and he smirked.

“What do you say we postpone research for a while?” he suggested and, not waiting for a response, leaned closer to capture your lips with his.

Together At Last

Pairing: Sam x reader

Word Count: 923

Summary: Sam and the reader were best friends in high school. What happens when, years later, they stumble across each other on a hunt?

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I hope you like it!~

You’d known Sam for a long time. You’d met him at school during your last year there, and he quickly became your best friend. All too soon for you, he and his family had left the small town you and your mother were living in during that time period.

You made sure to keep in touch with him. His phone number changed constantly, as did yours, but you’d always stayed in contact.

It was really strange when, recently, he didn’t respond to your calls, e-mails or texts. Two years now, you hadn’t gotten a single word from Sam Winchester, a signal that he was alive and still thinking of you.

‘Maybe,’ you thought as you packed your hunting things in a backpack and slung it over your shoulder, ‘Maybe he’s not thinking of me. Or maybe he’s not alive,’ you sighed at your depressing train of thought and cursed yourself for thinking so much about him even now, two years after you’d had your last contact with Sam and so many years after you’d last seen him.

Cursing yourself under your breath, you shook your head to clear it and headed towards your destination: an abandoned house where ghost sightings had been reported. Armed with rock salt, a pack of matches and a lot of other weapons that would be useless against a ghost but made you feel safer; you made your way up to the house.

You had just closed the door behind you and switched your torch on when you heard a gun being cocked and the bright beam from another person’s torch was in your eyes.

But then the beam was lowered and, in the meagre light it and your own flashlight created, you could barely make out the characteristics of a tall, broad-shouldered man that reminded you too much of...

“Sam?” you choked out in surprise, wondering what the hell he could be doing here.

He didn’t speak. He just flung some water at you from a small bottle held in his hand, and he frowned when the results were negative.

“I’m not a fucking demon,” you hissed at him and drew a silver knife from your belt, slicing a cut across your palm. “And I’m not a shapeshifter either.”

“You can’t be Y/N,” he stated with certainty.

“I can’t? Why’s that, Sam?” you asked, and his frown deepened. “Because Y/N isn’t a hunter. I would’ve known.”

“I am a hunter. And of course you wouldn’t have known -I hadn’t realised you’re a hunter either,” you said in your defence.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? We’ve talked so many times,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t know you’re a hunter as well, so I couldn’t exactly call you one day and tell you that I’ve been hunting monsters ever since I could walk. Most people don’t even know that monsters exist,” you replied, locking eyes with his.

Even in the too little white light that the torches’ beams cast, his eyes were the same hazel you remembered, his smile -though small right now- was instantly recognisable as Sam.

“You’re so tall now,” you muttered suddenly, and he chuckled. “You’re still beautiful,” he said, and you could have sworn that a small blush coloured his cheeks as he said that, but the lighting was so bad that you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, you ran up to him and threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you,” you said, a grin on your face that could rival the sun in brightness.

“I’ve missed you too. So much,” he muttered.

“Why did you stop replying to my messages and calls?” you asked him, pulling far enough away so you could look at him, but not so far that you would have to take your arms off from around him.

“I wanted to keep you safe. Away from the life of a hunter. I thought that the best way to do that would be to sever all contact with you. It hurt, because you were my best friend, and I...” here, Sam trailed off, and you waited for him to pick up the threads of his sentence, but he never did.

“I wasn’t your best friend, Sam. I still am, if you want to, if you need me. I sure as hell need you,” you muttered, and were elated to see a smile take over the frown that had clouded his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually, “But I...” he hesitated again before taking a deep breath, “I’ve always liked you. More than just friends. Perhaps more than like. It’s as if... I’ve been in love with you all my life, from the moment I met you onwards,” he confessed awkwardly, his voice low in a murmur, and you blushed.

You didn’t respond. Words weren’t really your thing; but actions were. So you stood on your tiptoes, put your arms around Sam’s neck and pressed your lips to his, pulling him into a kiss that held frustration, longing and so many bottled-up feelings. The feel of his tongue against your lips, in your mouth, toying and fighting with your own made your skin tingle and your brain shut down as you gave into the sensations, savouring every single moment.

“Two hunters in love. It’s risky,” you muttered when you pulled away.

“It’s not just risky. It’s mortally perilous,” he responded breathily, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

You giggled as he leaned down to kiss you again.

“And I love it.”

Being a writer

IDEA

*thinks of a whole mystery plot while in the shower*

I like that synonym, ohhh but I like that one too.

“It’s just a draft” I say to hide the fact that I suck and this is the best I can do

What’s another word for ‘said’?

Argh I can’t spell

Their tongues battled for dominance…

DON’T BREAK MY CONCENTRATION

You broke it.

And then she…and then she…

I’m so hungry

I’m so tired

I’m so horny

I’m just going to write about my OTP and change their names.

I’m so proud of this! *a week later* wtf did I actually write this shit this is terrible what was I thinking just ugghh

I just need to change one more thing…or 80.

FUCK EVERYTHING

*writes for 5 minutes* *block*

If Stephenie Meyer can publish, so can I.

This is it! I’m going to turn it into a book. No really, this one’s better than the last one.

My book’s so gonna be a movie/TV series, so I may as well plan ahead and pick my cast.

Why are they always fictional??

*mind wanders*

“What’re reading?” Ummm a book…that’s online. NO you can’t see it.

Nothing rhymes with orange? Challenge accepted.

I’M A FAILUURRREE

It’s just a short story, won’t take me long *seven hours, 30 energy drinks and 10,000 words later*

WHAT’S THE POINT?!

*mind continues to wander*

“What’s lemon?” *sweats*

Another rejection? Perfect! Harry Potter was rejected thirteen times. I’m on my way.

FOR FUCK’S SAKE IT’S EITHER THERE, THEIR, OR THEY ARE.

No, I didn’t use rhymzone.com. I’m insulted by your accusations.

I want Emma Watson to play my character.

And Tom Felton to be her love interest.

How do you write smut?

What’s another word for ‘and then’?

OMFG I’M SO INSPIRED RIGHT NOW MAYBE I SHOULD WRITE THIS DOWN

I’ll write it later, I’ll definitely remember it.

What’s another word for ‘suddenly’?

SMELL THIS BOOK. SMELL ITTT.

Wasn’t there something I was supposed to remember to write?

Ugh I give up

IDEA!