Iconicstoner - Iconicstoner

I'm not the only one who thinks that if Jasper was human he'll have some sort of addiction, right?

Hello!!! Are you currently taking requests? If so, which Twilight characters do you write for? Thank you in advance!! 💞💞

Yeah, of course I am! I've written the most about Jasper, but I'd write anything! I think it would be super fun to write for some of the other characters in Twilight, but I just haven't had any ideas yet, so I'd love some requests. :)

a light in the darkness

gn!reader x cedric diggory

words: 1126

summary: In an AU where Cedric survives the Triwizard tournament, but has trauma from it, y/n has to help him through a panic attack caused by his claustrophobia.

a/n: mentions what happened to Cedric in the maze in detail, mentions claustrophobia, and implied panic attack

Cedric would never be the same after the Triwizard Tournament.

Not everything had changed. He was still the same loyal and compassionate boy you’d always loved, but he would never be as carefree as he once was. Slowly, his hair had been growing out; nothing major, but just enough to cover his eyes. His sleep pattern was in a downward spiral too. Almost every night, he had grim nightmares about what happened during the tournament, and it caused him to fall asleep in his classes often. He confessed to you the terrifying memories he had from the maze. You could remember in great detail when he told you about the suffocating tunnels of ivy that surrounded him as he tried to move through the maze, making it almost impossible to breathe. The experience was suffocating. He was even more scared by the overgrown roots that wrapped around him and attempted to carry him away from the cup. He clawed at them, screaming in terror for help, but nothing he could do on his own would fight them off. Now, if he got his shoe caught on something as simple as his shoelace, it would make him turn ghostly pale, getting flashbacks to the moment he could’ve lost his life.

Despite what he went through, he kept exceptional grades and still had his friends. For him, maintaining his grades wasn’t a surprise. Not only were his professors very understanding, but studying was one of the few things he could do without ever having to think about what happened that day. He was much more surprised to discover that his friends still loved him, and that he was still as popular as always. He thought his friends would be disappointed in him, but like the incredible friends they were, they adored him just as much, and respected him for the hardship he went through. More than anything, he was glad you still loved him, even if he would never be exactly the same.

However, attention and popularity were no longer what made him feel whole. When people circled him to talk to him, it often scared him. After what happened in the maze, Cedric had intense claustrophobia, and even standing in a crowded room could set him off.

After every dark thing that happened, the only real thing he could find solace in was you, his beloved support system. You knew this, and made it a point to check on him daily, especially if he didn’t talk to you for a day. That’s how you knew when it was a dreadful day for him.

Today was different. Classes were over for the day, and you hadn’t seen him once. You thought maybe it was just a coincidence you didn’t see him in the halls, but when he didn’t show up to your shared History of Magic class, you grew worried. You’d asked around about him for what felt like hours, and eventually one of his friends told you they’d seen Cedric go to his dormitory.

You contemplated what could’ve happened as you entered the Hufflepuff common room. The smell of sweets wafted through the air, and the syrupy scent filled your nose. Usually, you loved to admire the soft yellow furniture and warm lighting, but today you went straight for the boys' dorm. You pushed open the ancient creaky oak door to Cedric’s dorm, and the scene felt all too familiar to you. Before the tournament, Cedric often invited you over, but that was becoming rare as time went on. You knew he still loved you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to reach out to anyone, even just to chat.

You opened the door to find Cedric on the wood floor, sitting next to his bed, with his knees to his chest. You rushed over, quickly closed the door behind you, and sat with him.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, he just softly cried. His cheeks were red, and his breathing was shallow. His favorite gold Hufflepuff sweater had droplets of water across the front from his salty tears. You wanted to engulf him in your arms, but you knew he needed his space.

“I can’t believe what I did,” he finally said, breaking the silence. The tears in his throat were audible and heartbreaking. “A group of people tried talking to me, and I just snapped,” he’s barely able to choke out the words as he begins to sob into your shoulder.

“I know Ced, it’s okay,” you say as you brush your fingers through his soft overgrown honey hair.

“I just snapped,” he says between sobs. “They were all standing so close, and I couldn’t breathe, and all I could think about was that stupid maze.” The words leave his mouth in a quick spiral, and once they’re out he grabs you like if he doesn’t, you’ll vanish. “I shouted at them,” he says, sounding dejected. Even if those students never remembered it, he was too sweet not to blame himself.

“Cedric Diggory,” you say in a strong, but concerned tone, “no one is mad at you. The people here are considerate enough to understand what you went through, and if they can’t understand it, then maybe they deserve to be yelled at.” He doesn’t respond to you, but he holds on to you a little tighter, and presses his face into your neck. His warm, soft lips meet your skin and plant a small kiss on you, and you can feel his wet, tear-stained cheeks brush against you. “Why don’t we get you some food? You’ll feel much better,” you earnestly suggest. He moves away from your neck, keeping a firm grip on your body. Despite his disheveled appearance, he sends you a grin that makes you feel like the sun has just come out after a long winter. He nods his head in agreement and stands up with you. You watch as he fixes his hair, and changes his clothes to go down to the great hall with you. When his shirt is off, you see his sculpted, toned body, and you can’t help but giggle. He blushes, and a soft shade of pink takes over his face. He sends you a wink and quickly puts on another shirt. It seemed like Hufflepuff’s golden boy was making a return.

Once you’re out of the Hufflepuff common room he takes you by the hand and twirls you around, pulling you into him with a soft smile. Your hands connect, as if they were made to hold each other, and he traces his thumb in circles on your hand.

“You are the light of my life,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s like you can hear the smile in his voice.

This video made me realize I’m more of a freak than I thought….Spencer Reid my life is yours

these clips made me so wild i had to stop editing and take a smut break

Jasper Hale and gn! reader they're looking around the stream and they see some Quartzite and reader gets excited (it's their fav.. rock)

typically its found in the mountians

a/n: This was so fun to write! This was actually my first request, so I'm glad to get to write it. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!!

------------------------------------------------------------

i could listen to you forever

gn!reader x jasper hale (fluff)

words: 535

summary: you find your favorite rock along the river's edge, and Jasper can't help but listen to you ramble.

“Jasper,” you whisper shout to him. Your eyes are only partially open, but you still see something shining in the sunlight towards the bed of the stream. “Jas,” you urge again, this time shaking his shoulder. You aren’t sure why either of you decided it’d be a good idea to rest here, out in the forest, but it’s been some of the best sleep you’ve ever gotten. 

“What is it love bug?” Jasper asks in a soft, sleepy voice. Vampires can’t sleep, but sometimes he gets so relaxed with you that he feels like he could. You yawn, stretching your back, and stand up. One second you’re looking at Jasper resting against a rock, eyes barely open and strands of blonde hair in his face, the next second he’s stood next to you with wide eyes. His vampire speed might be something you never get used to.

“I see something shining over there,” you say excitedly. You absolutely loved all things rocks and crystals, and Jasper knew that well. 

“Well, let’s go look and see what it is, Sugar,” Jasper tells you with a smile. He loves to see you get excited over what you care about, and you love when he calls you those sweet nicknames. The two of you quickly make your way over to the river's age. The sun is hitting just right, and Jasper begins to sparkle just as much as the rock in his hands.

“Is that what I think it is?” you ask him happily. You watch as he rubs his thumb over it, and then holds it up to the light. 

“Why yes, I do believe so,” he says with a smirk, leaning in closer to you. You laugh and gently kiss him. He places the rock in your hand and you begin to exam in it.

“Did you know this is my favorite?” 

“I think you’ve mentioned it,” he says with a smile, “maybe I’ll get it made into a ring for you.” You laugh at his comments, but deep down you know that sounds amazing. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Haven’t I already told you about it?” you ask genuinely. You could talk about this sort of stuff forever, but you don’t because you don’t want to annoy Jasper.

“You have told me about it, but I wanna hear it again,” he tells you as he grabs you by the waist and kisses the top of your head.

“It’s Quartzite, typically found in the mountains. It’s a metamorphic rock, meaning it’s formed by being subjected to high heat and pressure, that’s made from quartz rich sandstone. Sometimes it’s used to make kitchen countertops.” 

“You sure do know your stuff, sweetheart,” he says with a smile. His southern accent is more prominent then ever when he’s calling you his sweetheart. 

“You don’t mind when I ramble?”

“Darlin’, I could listen to you talk about rocks for the rest of my life, which I’d like to point out is the rest of forever.” He kisses you on the top of the head again and holds you close.

“Well, I guess you’ll be learning a lot about rocks,” you joke.

“I can’t wait,” he says, syrupy sweet. 

Live, Laugh Love Matthew Gray Gubler

I think D is what is most likely. I imagine after Renesmee finishes aging (and can leave the Cullens) Jacob would want to stay near the reservation (at least as long as he could) and Renesmee would want to stay with him (imprinting things), but of course the Cullens have to leave Forks (so ppl aren't suspicious). Even if Jacob and Renesmee don't stay near Forks/La Push, I can't imagine them staying with the Cullens. Jacob being a werewolf really makes vampires not like him. They think he smells terrible and he interferes with Alice’s visions. However, if they ever visit the Cullens or stay with them or whatever I imagine they’d just say Renesmee is Edward’s sister (because they look more alike and it would make him seeming like an overprotective “brother” (dad) more reasonable than if she was Bella’s sister) and Jacob would just be her boyfriend/husband.

How Will the Cullens Explain Renesmee in the Future?

How do you see Renesmee fitting into the Cullens’ cover stories when she is grown up and appears to be the same age as the other Cullens? We’re used to them using a “adopted/foster kids” scenario, but even if they use a different story (Carlisle/Esme as older siblings or uncle/aunt  to the ‘kids’ rather than parents) Renesmee’s physical resemblance to both Edward and Bella is going to complicate things. What story do you think they will use for her? A) Bella’s biological sister B) Edward’s biological sister C) Bella, Edward and Renesmee are all biological siblings (E/B can’t be a couple in public) D) Renesmee and Jacob will do their own thing separate from the rest of the Cullens E) Other? Explain. 

hey so I'm actually so in love with this and the way Spencer is written in this is so perfect and accurate to his character and I'm gonna go feral bc it was so sappy and sweet and made me so happy and rhgrogrjgjr just go read it rn

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

playful in potions

gn!reader x cedric diggory

words: 503

summary: y/n gets overwhelmed in potions class, but Ced is there to save the day (and ask y/n out).

“Why must Snape assign the most tedious work?” I mumble to myself as I stir my potion counter-clockwise, which would be fine, but I’m not sure if I’ve stirred seven or eight times. My inability to stay focused while brewing potions might be why my potions OWL was…subpar.

“Hey, do you need help?” I’d recognize the soft velvety voice that’s asking anywhere. Cedric Diggory. The guy that every girl in this school is fawning over. The worst part of it is that I can’t even blame them. He’s gorgeous, compassionate, and benevolent. Anyone would want him.

“Yeah, some help would be great,” I admit my defeat as I watch him continue mixing the potion. He adds in something leafy and green that I couldn’t even begin to name. As he stirs the potion, I watch the soft veins in his hands emerge. His sleeves are rolled up, and my eyes trail up his exposed forearms, and slowly to his chest. It’s strong, and I wouldn’t mind laying my head on it while I listen to his heartbeat. We’re shoulder to shoulder as we (really just him) fix the potion, but I don’t mind being so close. I’m admiring his honey hair when he turns to me.

“That should fix it,” he shoots me a gleaming smile while leaning into my ear, “as long as you follow the instructions this time,” he says with a playful whisper. I feel the hairs on my neck raise at the sensation of his breath on my jaw.

“Thank you so much, Ced,” I say the words with a sigh of relief for my grade as he pulls away from me.

“Sorry, what’d you just call me?” His smile drops as he raises one of his eyebrows. I can smell the cologne radiating off his soft skin, but I can’t focus on that as I panic at the realization I called him Ced instead of Cedric.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t like being called that.”

“I like whatever you want to call me,” he says with a grin. It's the same shimmering smile that has every girl at Hogwarts falling for him. The same one I wouldn’t mind getting to see up close again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The words come out flatly because I’m in such shock at his statement. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone flirt with me so obviously.

“It means maybe I could take you out sometime?” I feel every nerve in my body when he says that. He could realistically be asking anyone out, but here he is, standing next to me in potions, with his shoulder pressed against mine, asking if I’ll go out with him.

“You’re really asking me out in potions class?”

“Would you prefer I wait till Charms?” He smirks, and I can’t help but dissolve into laughter with him.

“Not at all,” I pause as we take a moment just to smile at each other, “I’d love to go out with you Cedric.”

one of my favorite moments of Twilight (2008) is when Edward just yells, “CARLIIIIIIISLE” as bella is dying idk why but that moment is SO iconic to me