GUYS!

Does anyone else have that one mutual who’s like Way Too Popular to be following you and ur lowkey convinced that they regret following u

could y’all imagine if i shipped one of you with thanos??? i’m not gOing to, bUt what a thought

Hey there!! I wanna ask if you are doing marauders ship as well??

I am! I honestly love the marauders era so ofc I’m up to shipping for them as well !!

A Safe World

Clarke Griffin x Reader

Warning: Angst, Miscarriage, General Sadness, this is just angst y’all, idk what to say, nothing graphic, just angsty

Summary: Happiness comes at a steep price

Requested by anonymous

Prompts:

13. “I lost our baby.”

80. “[Do they] know about the baby?”

i would like to clarify that despite it seeming like the reader having to be male, i chose to go a gender neutral route like yA know feRtiLity treatment oKay oKay tHx

also apologies cause this sucked, oOF

Clarke Griffin was a lot of things.

She was a daughter, a leader, a best friend, a strong woman, a ‘doctor’, and most of all, she was the love of your life.

But she was also going to be the mother of your children.

Now, this wasn’t a rash decision or even a mistake. You two were in love and most of all, you two were safe. For once in a very long time, the world seemed just a little more forgiving and a glimmer of hope had shone itself to both of you.

A family, one of your very own, seemed more possible than ever. You two had finally let yourselves be happy. More importantly, Clarke was letting herself be happy. Something she rarely ever does.

Heavy lies the head that wears the crown, after all.

So, this was more than just a big deal. It was a huge deal and for the first time in awhile, Clarke seemed genuinely excited and, well, happy.

But how long can a good thing really last if not temporarily?

You were in the midst of reading a book, quietly taking note of any names in the book that might make a good name for your future child, when you decided you needed a break and to stretch your legs.

Taking a walk, you stopped every now and then to speak to a few people like Bellamy but ultimately, you were just trying to clear your head which meant take a walk and then head back to your book.

Until, of course, you heard Clarke speaking in hushed yet shaky tones. “Clarke...” Raven trailed off, her voice like she was struggling to speak.

Alarm filled your veins, panic pulsing through your heart as you realized how the atmosphere seemed to darken around you. They were talking in a nearby room, like a closed off meeting from anybody else who might stumble upon them like...you.

Now, normally you would interject, your anxiousness getting the better of you but a particular phrase made your blood run completely cold.

“Do they...do they know about the baby?” Raven had asked, taking a shaky breath that took all of the air out of your own lungs. You could feel your knees threaten to buckle as your mind whirled with thoughts and worst-case scenarios.

You fell against the wall, the solid material the only thing grounding you as you struggled to hear more.

“No,” Clarke responded, her own voice sounding so stilted and uneasy. “I...I know. They, they need to know.”

Silence fell again and you struggled to pull yourself onto stable footing. In reality, your thoughts were more unstable than the rest of you. They were loud and unforgiving, like 1000 puzzle pieces for a 25 piece box.

“What do I need to know?” you finally managed to choke out, shambling into the doorway. Raven met your eyes first, having been faced the door, and you can see the sorrow etched across every part of her face.

She doesn’t offer you any other kind of reaction as Clarke turns, her composed expression beginning to shatter upon meeting your eyes. As Raven excuses herself, you can see tears begin to prick the eyes of the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes. right away, only confusing and concerning you further. Her voice cracks and you can just hear the torment she’s been dealing with. “(Y/N), I am so sorry,” she repeats and in that moment, you can see the all too familiar face of someone threatening to crumble.

“Clarke...”

“I lost our baby.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you can feel your stomach churn. The words puncture every inch of your heart, they’re a sharpened knife reminding you of the world you’re in.

You want to ask how, you want to deny it, you want to scream, you want to cry, you want to do anything but, you’re frozen.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke says again, tears beginning to streak down her face but neither of you make a move. Time seems to slow and you just want to wake up from whatever horrible nightmare you’ve found yourself in.

But this is real. Dreadfully and painfully real.

Before Clarke can speak again, you realize you’re now sobbing as well. It takes mere moments for both of you to fall into each other’s arms, the truth of the situation dawning on both of you.

You both finally let yourself be happy, believing your world was safe and that you could have a family. Like a pair of fools.

You were glad that Clarke was okay, reassuring her it wasn’t her fault but that didn’t fix the hurt that embedded itself in both of your hearts due to the future you had lost.

Maybe you could try again in the future but whether or not you ever would, that was another question entirely.

Following a Lead

Liam Dunbar x Reader

Warning: Mention of Parental Death, Getting Kicked Out, Vodka

Summary: It’s two a.m when Liam gets an unexpected visitor at his house. One that intends to stay the night. (Hint: it’s you)

Requested by @tailah-haderson-gilbert

Prompts:

6. “I need a place to stay.”

16. “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

24. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka!”

31. “I haven’t slept in ages.”

59. “I could punch you right now.”

these prompts fit so well together im, also lowkey enjoyed whatever character i just constructed here?? trAGIC BACKSTORY? IS THAT YOU?

You knew it was late. The way the crescent moon peered through the trees and the empty streets were a dead give away. The town was quiet, even for Beacon Hills. Especially for Beacon Hills, actually.

You walked along the sidewalk, the sleeves of your maroon hoodie acting as the only thing barring you against the cold late autumn wind. When you spotted his house, you let out a sigh of relief and bounded up the porch steps.

For a moment, as your hand hovered before the front door, you contemplated turning around and walking away. Perhaps Scott would be more open to letting you stay over but you didn’t know where he lived and it was already late enough.

You knocked against the front door, rubbing your arms as you tried to ignore the cold. When the door edged open and you saw Liam peek out, you gave him a soft appreciative smile. “Y/N?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Liam, hey!” you greeted cheerily, well as cheery as you could be. “I need a place to stay.” Liam looked at you confused for a moment, but it was two a.m and he definitely didn’t have to energy to reject you.

He side stepped, allowing you to enter his house. You smiled thankfully as you stepped inside, gazing about the warm house. “Can I ask why?”

You pondered his question for a moment. It was a long story but you trusted Liam and he did ask. “Well,” you began, “I thought I had found a lead...on my mom’s killer.” Liam, tired as he may be, continued listening. “I was out, like, all day following it. When I got home, about an hour ago, I ran into my dad. He yelled at me for looking into it, saying ‘the past is the past’ and I argued back, of course. Things got intense and he told me to get out.”

You glanced away from Liam, not interested in seeing his reaction as you looked about the house. His parents weren’t around so you could only assume they were probably asleep. “Uh, sorry...that that, uh, happened.” Liam definitely didn’t know what to say to you but you didn’t blame him. You offered a smile in response. “You can stay in my room, just don’t be loud? I don’t think I’m allowed to have you over...at two a.m.”

“Probably not,” you mused as Liam led the way to his room. You trotted after him, almost immediately collapsing onto his bed once you saw it in your line of sight. “Ah. Comfort.”

“Yeah, okay,” Liam sighed softly to himself as he sat down at his desk. He wiped his tired eyes as he watched you toss and turn onto his bed for a moment, before going still. Presumably, you were falling asleep. Liam spun around in his desk chair for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should get up.

The only reason he even answered the door was because he had been in the kitchen to get a drink of water. Now he had you in his room and no water. He leant his elbow on the arm of his chair, resting his head in his hand as he too drifted off.

———————————

Liam was startled awake by sounds coming from the kitchen. His eyes darted to his empty bed and the wide open bedroom door. Instinctively, he scrambled to his feet and dashed into the kitchen to find you sat on the kitchen counter.

A package of chocolate chips was laid beside you and a large bottle of vodka in your hands as you stared at Liam like a deer caught in headlights. Liam’s eyes went wide as he whipped his head toward the clock and back at you. “It’s six o’clock!” He yelled in a hushed tone.

“Yes, it is!” You yelled back, mimicking his tone. You shook your head as you began to unscrew the lid to the vodka. But Liam snatched it from your hands before you could finish. “Hey!” You exclaimed with a pout.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka!” Liam scolded you as he adjusted the cap and went to put it back where his parents had kept it. You stuck your tongue out at him as you grabbed the cookies. Liam, once again, took them from your grasp.

You gasped aloud. “I could punch you right now,” you hissed as you hopped off the counter and reached out for them but Liam stepped away before you could. “I haven’t eaten like anything, all day! Besides cereal!”

“Can you be quiet?!” Liam asked desperately, glancing down the hall fearfully. He didn’t want his parents to wake up to find you in the kitchen, that wouldn’t go well for sure. You narrowed your eyes at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for the return of the chocolate chips. “Wha-what are you even doing out here? You were sleeping.”

You scoffed, “I haven’t slept in ages.” Suddenly your tone went from childish to something much more cynical and dark. Liam looked at you with evident concern. “Not since I’ve begun looking into my mom’s death anyway. The cops never found anything. You can’t tell me that’s not weird.”

“Well yeah, but Y/N-“

“I know she was killed for a reason and I’m willing to bet it had something to do with the supernatural. I just need to figure out how,” you explained with a small shrug. Liam looked over you for a moment before jutting the cookies out toward you. Your eyes lit up. “Are you letting me have them?!” Liam’s eyes widened. “Quiet. Right,” you smiled, lowering your tone as you trotted down the hall back to Liam’s room.

Liam followed you, shutting the door behind you both. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, happily munching on the cookies. “You’re going to have to be out of here by noon. My step-dad will be at work and my mom has to go shopping and-“

“Sorry for stealing your bed, by the way,” you cut him off. “I ended up just stealing your bed and I didn’t even sleep. I tried and then I was just on my phone for...four hours? Wow, sorry,” you muttered apologetically as you extended the cookie package out to him. “Cookie?”

“Oh, thanks.” Liam took a cookie as he spun around in his chair for a moment. “Maybe Scott and Stiles could...look into your mom’s murder? I’m not saying they could do a lot but Stiles is always kind of ready to solve a mystery and if it’s the supernatural-“ Liam trailed off, noticing the grin you were giving him. “W-what?”

“You’re sweet,” you told him, almost not noticing the blush on his cheeks once you had said that.

“Well, I just...Y/N...you’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

reblog if you love Bellamy Blake

you know you wanna reblog this

Congrats on 100 followers!! Could I please get a male Harry Potter ship? I am Hufflepuff female with brown hair, blue eyes, and I’m average height. I am an extrovert but I love to hang out with my close group of friends. I am protective of my friends and family, and I am also a very optimistic person. I love to read, write, sing, and act. I think that is about it, thank you!!!

—I ship you with Draco Malfoy!

opposites attract and i raise you draco malfoy! (thought about cedric for awhile but ssh, ily)

draco’s pretty…rough around the edges and that’s no different with you. he’s not mean, but he’s not about to shake your hand and ask you to be his friend. but you’re nice to him? 

you’re chipper, so to speak and you like to be involved. you want to do things and you’re generally fun to be around and draco really can’t help but enjoy your company. is he going *gasp* soft? no but seriously he’s legitimately nice now.

nobody sees it coming with draco asks you out. sure he’d been suddenly nicer with you in his life but draco has feelings?? he’s rly bashful about it too and he blushes. wow. what did you dO.

he’s actually the most supportive boyfriend. you want to write something? he’s will write. you want to sing for him? this boy has already pulled out a chair. you want to star in a play? he’s buying the first ticket. do not test this boy. 

i stand by this ship wholeheartedly now. wow. 

hi i am andesiteworks rate my blog https://t.co/rMp1MHdxrc

Requests are Open!

not that they were ever closed lmao but!

specifically reader-inserts, just so we’re clear here boys

i reblogged a prompt list tho if you need some inspo, send a character and a prompt—or just your own request!

Forever

NOTE: I’ve always wanted to do a soulmate au (based off this post) and hERe wE go my fIRST imAgIne also I tried to be as gender neutral as possible 

Clarke Griffin x Reader

Soulmates.

Of course you didn’t believe in all of that. The whole idea of Love at First Sight and being with someone forever just felt so unrealistic. And yet, the world was dead set against that ideal.

This was a world where the doodles upon your arm weren’t necessarily your own, but the mindless sketches of your soulmate. The ink that laced your wrist wasn’t that of a tattoo but your soulmate sitting bored somewhere else.

It was a peculiar thing, a thing that you hated. You didn’t want your destiny written, or drawn, out for you. You wanted to make your own choices, without having to mindlessly wait for your soulmate to come alone and ‘sweep you off your feet.’

And so that’s what you did. For years and years, you never wrote a single word upon your arm. You never so much as wrote down a reminder or sketched a line. It was the only thing you could think to do. You didn’t want a soulmate so you tried to pretend that they didn’t exist by protesting the very factor that made them possible.

To be fair, it kind of worked. For years, you went on unfazed. You weren’t held down but the construct of forever. You weren’t waiting on end, longing for that special person. You dated who you wanted to date, you liked who you wanted to like.

Though dating should be hard in a world of soulmates, there were people like you who rejected the mere construct of it. And for those sheer moments, you were in control.

The only thing that you couldn’t control were the images that danced across your skin. It was like your soulmate never stopped. To them, skin was their canvas. Why waste paper when they could take the pen to their skin for their special someone to see?

You wished you could say it annoyed you but the images were far too nice for that to work. As the years went on, the drawings got better and more sophisticated. Your soulmate’s skill had improved without a doubt and you enjoyed looking at the landscapes that would write themselves upon your skin.

This went on for a long while. From when you were just a little girl to when you were just about sixteen. The drawings were like apart of you and then they just stopped.

You had to be honest, it startled you some. The worlds that would encase your arm, new ones each day, just faded away and you were left with nothing. You at first believed that your soulmate had died.

You heard whispers of that happening to some and it was somewhat devastating. The person that someone was supposedly meant for just dying? Those that believed in the construct were heartbroken, torn to bits really.

Even you were somewhat drawnback by it. And yet, a few months into the disappearance, you soon found a small landscape wrapped around your forearm.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you felt the content in your veins. You weren’t entertaining the idea of soulmates but you were glad that someone wasn’t dead which you appreciated.

And then you got arrested. It was stupid, in all honesty. Supposedly you had assaulted a guard but you had just ran into him causing him to fall over with you atop. Can they really arrest you for being a klutz?

The short answer: yes.

You were shoved into lockup, sharing a cell with some girl named Thalia. Luckily for you, you had the drawings upon your skin to keep you company. You were still far too stubborn to write back but you liked knowing someone was there, even if they weren’t your forever.

And then, in what felt like a blink of an eye, you were hurtling down toward Earth. The Ark may not have been the best place to live but a potentially toxic Earth was far more frightening to you and the other 99 delinquents.

Yet, you survived. The Earth wasn’t as toxic as it once was. In fact, it was beautiful and you could only hope to see an image appear upon your skin of it all. Of course, that would only apply if your soulmate was one of the ones down there.

You felt stupid for believing such a small possibility and you tried hard to just focus on the task at hand, listening to the unwritten leaders of the camp; Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin.

Clarke Griffin was headstrong and seemed to be one of the few people that were deadset on surviving the harsh realities of the new world.

She was practical and real, it was something to look up to. Yet even Clarke, with her mindful head upon her shoulders, couldn’t help but entertain the idea of forever.

Since she was young and learned the concept of soulmates, she would doodle on her arm as much as possible. In all honesty, it helped grow her artistic skill. But there was one problem.

Nothing ever wrote itself onto her skin. For years and years, there was never anything from her soulmate on her skin. She had to admit, she didn’t know whether or not she was truly destined for this person, but a reply from them would’ve been nice.

At times, she thought them dead. But that didn’t stop her from drawing on her skin. The only time she stopped was when she was thrown into lockup and she found herself too lost to write. For awhile anyway.

Now on Earth, things were different. Clarke was busy, constantly. She was a leader of camp whether she liked it or not. And she was also a doctor for them. She was the only one who any kind of medicinal training and god forbid they didn’t have her. She was busy for what felt like days on end. A break couldn’t come sooner.

As Clarke sat herself in the dropship on a particularly slow day, something that bewildered Clarke, she found herself tracing lines across her forearm. Having seen the sunset finally with her own eyes, she couldn’t help but begin to sketch it.

“Got a minute?” a voice asked, prompting Clarke to stop and look up.

“Oh Y/N, what’s wrong?” Clarke asked as she set the pen aside and got up. Clarke headed over, spotting Y/N’s extended forearm.

“There’s a good chance I may have cut myself throwing knives,” Y/N revealed, sounding both ashamed and embarrassed. Clarke shook her head, as she took Y/N’s forearm in hand.

Clarke hovered a finger over the cut and bit the inside of her cheek. “You didn’t cut too deep,” Clarke reassured before spotting the dark lines that dotted Y/N’s skin.

“I didn’t draw that if you’re wondering,” Y/N chuckled softly. “Definitely not that artistic,”

Instead of offering a word, Clarke held out her own forearm with the identical drawing (though unhindered by a slash from a blade).

Y/N had no words, only the look of amazement that that found its way into both of their eyes. Clarke had been so resigned to the idea that her soulmate was simply dead, to see them before her was like some sort of hallucination.

“You draw a lot, don’t you?” Y/N scoffed, clearly trying to bring some humor into the situation.

“And you don’t draw at all,” Clarke fired back, quirking a smug eyebrow in Y/N’s direction. “Right!” Clarke realized as she remembered the cut. “Let me just take care of that for you,”

Clarke turned away for a moment as if trying to avoid the situation and for once in your life, you didn’t want to.

The gash in your forearm hurt some, but not as much as the rapid pulsing of your heart did. Maybe you didn’t believe in soulmates or forever, but you believed in the girl right in front of you. Before Clarke could move away, you found yourself grabbing hold of her hand.

She turned back, her lips parting as she stared back at you unsure of what to do. No one really ever talked about what happened when they met their soulmate, nor the feelings one felt when it happened. You, for sure, couldn’t describe it nor could Clarke.

Instead, you both found yourselves moving closer. It wasn’t long before your lips connected in a chaste first kiss, that made you realize one thing.

Maybe you didn’t believe in soulmates, or a forever. But you certainly could entertain the idea of Clarke Griffin.