... so i put up my middle finger at them

Hi my name is Shaolin Fantastic and I have a pristine pair of red pumas (that’s how I got my recognition) with white accents and a real life samurai sword that I got for a discount and a lot of people tell me I look like Grandmaster Flash (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Zeke Figuero but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m also a DJ, and I apprentice under Grandmaster Flash where I’m in the third year (I’m seventeen). I’m gay (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly red. For example today I was wearing a red shirt and a matching red hat along with my signature red pumas. I was walking around the Bronx. It was hot and sunny so there was no shade, which I wasn’t very happy about. A lot of Savage Warlords stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is Alexander Hamilton and I have long powdery grey hair and a lot of people tell me I remind them of George Washington (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to John Laurens but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m also a Founding Father, and I work for a government called the United States of America where I’m the Secretary of the Treasury. I’m a federalist (in case you couldn’t tell). I love Hercules Mulligan and I buy all my clothes from him. For example today I was wearing a black coat with matching black breeches and a white caravat. I was walking outside in New York. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about so I could go home and write unlike John Adams. A lot of Democratic-Republicans stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is Kravitz Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with a and a black cape that reaches my mid-back and icy eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like the Raven Queen (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Taako from TV but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m the Grim Reaper but my face has flesh and is handsome. I have a pale white skull. I’m also a witch, and I go to a base called the Bureau of Balance on the moon (I’m uninoculated). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black suit with matching tie and a black cape with a red inside and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking around the Astral Plane. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of ghosts stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde (Gwynbleidd) of Rivia and I have long milk-white hair (that’s how I got my name) and golden cat eyes like oriole tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Vesemir (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Iorveth but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witcher, and I go to a fortress called Kaer Morhen amidst the peaks of the Blue Mountains in Kaedwen. I’m a master swordsman (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black armor. For example today I was wearing a black warrior’s leather jacket with silver studs around it and black trousers, black gauntlets, and black leather boots. I was wearing two swords on my back - one silver, one steel, and my special wolf medallion. I was walking outside Kaer Morhen. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of drowners stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is Aragorn son of Arathorn heir of Isildur descendent of Numenor King Elessar of the house Telcontar and I have long ebony black hair (almost as long as my name) and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Beren (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m a man but I live for over 100 years. I have pale white skin. I’m also a Dunedain ranger, and I go to the Prancing Pony Inn in Bree where I brood in the corner (I’m eighty-seven). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black.  For example today I was wearing a black cloak with black trim and black boots and black clothes and smoking a black pipe. I was brooding in my corner in the Prancing Pony. It was night-time and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A group of hobbits stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is John Quincy Adams and I have long brown hair (but I’m starting to go bald) with white streaks and brown tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like John Adams (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to George Washington but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m running for president but I’m not gonna campaign. I have pale white skin. I’m also a Democratic Republican, and I was the Secretary of State in America from 1817-1825 (I’m 58!!!). I’m a Whig (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love long pants and my mom complains about the way I dress. For example today I was wearing a black jacket with pants under it, and a black cotton vest, white socks and black boots. I was wearing white hair powder and a hat that Henry Clay gave me. I was walking outside The Capital Building. It was The Era Of Good Feelings, so there was widespread political unity, which I was very happy about. A lot of Jacksonians stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Before the Sun Is In the Sky - Lin Manuel Miranda X Reader

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: You’re a sleep deprived third-year resident at the hospital and you’ve been assigned to the ER where a disheveled Lin comes in after a kitchen mishap.

Warnings: Blood, needles, cursing. I think that’s it?

Word Count: 3,132 (Yiiiikes.)

A/N: So I haven’t written in a long while, so it’s hella rusty and I’m sorry for this trash. This is my first fic in a long ass time. It was initially gonna be a one shot, but then I started rambling and well, it’s dumb. ANYWAY. Have fun with this garbage. Let me know what y'all think and maybe I’ll write more. Who knows.

SIDE NOTE: Thanks to @ourforgottenboleros for editing and being the sweetest pal ever. GO READ HER STUFF ‘CAUSE BECCA INSPIRED ME TO WRITE AGAIN AND HONESTLY I’M FLUSTERED BC OF HER WORK, SO YEAH.

You were four hours past the end of your shift at Columbia University Hospital and you’d been sleep deprived for a little over two days. It wasn’t like you had a right to kick yourself in the ass for being so exhausted because you intentionally signed up for this. Four years at Tufts, another four at Cornell, you weren’t about to throw it all away just because you were tired. It was part of the job. As a third-year resident, you should be used to it by now – and sure, you were, but you were human and sleep was still precious.

It was almost 4 in the morning and you were making your last round in the pit before calling it a night. The ER was oddly silent in a city that never sleeps, but still, you were beyond grateful for the silent reprieve, no matter how momentary.

“Doctor Y/N, there’s a minor laceration that just got assigned to Room 17,” a nurse called out from behind the station. “He was the last patient out there.”

You groaned to yourself, almost wanting to admit defeat. You didn’t want to go check up on someone that was most likely inebriated to the point where impulse and clumsiness overpowered all logic and balance. The guy probably had some superficial injury that could be patched up with some antibacterial cream and a Spider-Man band aid.

“Thanks, Erica,” you replied as you stifled a yawn that’s been trying to escape for the past six hours. “Stats and everything uploaded to the database?”

Erica nodded and smiled at you sympathetically, knowing full well how much you just wanted to go home, take off everything, and climb into bed for just five hours before it was time to start again.

Room 17, you thought to yourself as your feet subconsciously brought you to the back hallway of the emergency room, tablet in tow. After a brief overview of his stats, medical history, and a description of the wound, you quickly gave the door two knocks before entering the room. Pulling back the privacy curtain, you looked up from your tablet and smiled at a disheveled man with his hand wrapped in a bloody hand towel.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, Mister… Lin-Manuel.” You smiled as you set down the tablet and approached him.

“You can just call me Lin,” he replied as he tried to wave at you with his cut hand, pain suddenly reminding him of his early morning mistake. “Oh duh, so stupid.”

You bit your cheek to keep the snicker that was quickly rising up and grabbed a pair of latex gloves and put them on.

“Alright, so what happened?” Reaching out for his hand, you gingerly hold it and remove the towel, exposing a three inch long slice on his left hand, starting from a centimeter above the base of his middle finger ending down by the outside curve of his palm. “Ahh, there it is.”

“Apple,” he started. “I was slicing an apple because eating it whole is just weird and it’s so much easier to eat it in slices, so that way I have free range with my hands to–”

You stopped him. “So you were slicing an apple on a cutting board and then this happened… to the inside of your palm?” That made no sense. If anything, he would’ve cut a finger or even the outside of his hand.

Shuffling over to the cabinet on the wall adjacent to the bed, you opened it up and grabbed gauze pads and saline solution.

“No, I was holding it. In my hand.” Lin looked you in the eye and then suddenly couldn’t make eye contact. There was a moment of hesitation and he brought his focus to the pulse oximeter still attached to his index finger. “Stupid, I know, but I wasn’t thinking. I had other things going on in my head and I got hungry, so I figured I’d cut up an apple and get back to writing.”

You made your way back over to him.

“I think a lesson was learned today,” you retorted with a smirk on your face as you began to clean the cut.

He winced and jerked his hand away just a bit. “Yeah, but it’s a setback now.”

You tried to clean the cut, but every time you put an ounce of pressure to the area, he seemed more and more uncomfortable. “Okay, I’m gonna numb this.”

“With a topical cream?” He asked with a raised brow, concern growing on his face.

“I could use a topical anesthetic, but when I stitch this up, you’ll probably feel a little more of the sutures than you’d like…”

You felt bad for him, you really did. His apparent uneasiness with needles on top of very obvious sleep deprivation (his eye bags looked worse than yours, dear Lord) made his big brown eyes grow wider and suddenly, they looked, for lack of a better term, helpless. That split second of fear and anxiety staring right back at you in the form of a puppy dog in a human’s body just sent your heart plummeting.

“Look, it’ll be quick. If anything, it’s a quick pinch here,” you pointed to the base of his finger, then the middle of his palm, and the edge of his hand. “There, and… right there. By the time it’s over, you’ll just feel pressure on it and it’s all done.” You flashed him a reassuring smile and shot him a look of ‘okay, let’s do it?’.

Lin audibly swallowed and nodded shaking. “I just… needles. Not too great with them.”

You headed towards the door and shot him yet another sympathetic grin. “I know, but it’ll help, I promise. I’ll be right back with what I need and we’ll get you stitched up and out of here, okay?”

“Sure, take your time, Doc.” He ran his free hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. “Please. Take your time. I need to mentally prepare for… this.” He gestured around the room and looked up at the ceiling.

You chuckled and shook your head. “You’ll be just fine.”

This was an everyday occurrence. Patients came in and out of the hospital, especially the pit where they were never anticipating to be. Patience and understanding were two traits that were necessary on the road to success as a doctor, so when it came to cases like this, the standard protocol was already second nature to you.

Once you had the required items, you took your tray and brought it back to his room. “Hey there, all set?”

A shaky breath escaped Lin’s lips and he shook his head again, clearly trying his hardest to smile. “Uh, no, but it needs to happen. I just… the blood, the stitches, my hand…”

“I’ll distract you,” you offered as you grabbed the stool and took a seat next to the bed. “Okay, put your hand up here and tell me about what you were working on.” Fingers in place in the new pair of gloves, you took the syringe and popped off the top before beginning to administer the anesthesia.

He gasped audibly, prompting you to stop to give him a few more moments of preparation. “Shit, that’s a big needle.” His eyes widened at the sight of the bevel that was a hairline away from his gaping wound.

It was a short gauge, a whopping 26 millimeters from the tip to the hub, barely a millimeter longer than a typical 25-gauge butterfly. A baby’s pinky finger was longer.

“Shh, shh, don’t look,” you told him calmly in an attempt to reassure him. “Close your eyes, Lin. It’s okay. Breathe in, breathe out.” A comforting smile grew across your face as you coaxed him to relax. “So tell me, what’s that thing you were working on?”

“A musical.” He exhaled a shaky breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, his free hand visibly trembling as he brought it up to further cover his face, as if shielding himself from the entire ordeal would make it all go away. You started to administer the anesthesia one more time, working as lightly as you possibly could. “It’s a fuzzy idea I had one day and it just sort of – ow! Sorry, I – ah! Fuck! Damn it! I’m gonna – oh God, I’m gonna puke…”

“It’s over, it’s over, no more pain.” You gazed into his eyes as a smile tugged on the corners of your lips. “Also, no more sensation because you’ll be numb for a few hours.”

He cautiously opened his eyes and looked back at you, chest rising and falling as if he’d sprinted up six flights of stairs, a slight grin of relief reciprocating your own. “God, that was horrible.”

You couldn’t help but giggle a little. There was something entrancing about his personality, and honestly, him being your (hopefully) last patient almost made it worthwhile.

“You’re fine. I’ll get it all stitched and you can go back home to work on that musical, alright? Tell me all about it.” Suture in hand, you began to close up his wound, stealing glimpses of him every now and then to ensure he was comfortable.

“You know the dude on the ten-dollar bill? Well, he’s got a wild story from start to finish.”

“Alexander Hamilton? That guy?”

He opened up his eyes and looked at you as you met his gaze with a quizzical look. With pursed lips, he nodded as if to say, ‘Yeahhhh, crazy.’

A musical. About some old man on the ten spot. Who in the world would do such a thing? Of course, you weren’t about to burst his bubble, especially since he was slowly but surely calming down. And plus, it was mesmerizing just listening to him ramble on.

You were about a third of the way through and despite your desperation for rest (and a bagel – dear God, you were starving), conversing with this sleep deprived, clumsy playwright-slash-musician somehow made tonight much more entertaining – which was odd because your definition of ‘entertaining’ was scrubbing in on a coronary artery bypass graft. But regardless, something about this man made you want to slow down and take your time instead of rushing him out the door.

“So what’s so special about Mr. Ten Dollar bill?” You pulled the suture through and tied a knot, moving languidly to prolong the moment.

“Everything,” he answered, accidentally moving his wounded hand to further emphasize his reply.

You instinctively grabbed him by the wrist to steady his hand.

“Yikes! Sorry, sorry, I forgot…”

With a laugh, you breathed a sigh of relief, worried some freak accident would’ve occurred had you not been quick on your feet – well, hands. “No no, it’s all good. Keep going.”

“Uh, where was I– Right, so he was just some washed up orphan, tough life, big dreams, some victories, huge mistake…”

Stitch upon stitch, you listened intently, finding yourself upstaging Mona Lisa’s smirk with your own because no matter how monotonous this procedure was, you were actually really into it. The conversation, that was, and you just kind of, sort of, maybe, perhaps didn’t want it to end.

Eventually, he wasn’t as nervous as he was when he first arrived and the conversation went from distraction to legitimate socialization.

Suddenly, his voice trailed off.

“This is probably boring to you. You don’t wanna hear about this. You probably have people talking your ear off every day. I’m sorry.” Lin gave you an apologetic smile. “You must be tired of me already.”

You look up at him and shrug, the faintest smile gracing your face. “I mean, it sounded ridiculous at first, but the more you talked about it, the more I wanted to know.”

“Don’t patronize me, it’s okay.” A grin tugged at his lips. “I’m sure you wanted silence.”

Honestly, he was partially right. You wanted nothing more than to drown out the melodies of the hustling, bustling city you called home. There was not a more arousing thought than silence. (That was sad. You were turned on by silence.)

But that was before this patient swept you up in the excitement of the story of Mr. Ten Bucks. And suddenly, you were okay with hearing him drone on and on.

With a shake of your head, you smiled up at him. “I was actually enjoying the conversation.”

“Well anyway, that’s the gist of it. I’ll spare you of the rest of my commentary.” He shot you a sheepish smile and laughed under his breath. “Weird concept, huh?”

“I dig it!” you replied with an enthusiastic nod. Sure, it sounded absurd, but the way he described it to you made it seem like brilliance was brewing. “I want tickets to the show when it’s done. Front and center. I’m gonna be like, ‘Yeah, I fixed up his hand!’

A laugh fell from his lips and he met your eyes. “You’re cute, Doc.”

Oh, there you went with the blushing. You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks and you broke away from his gaze, fearing your quickly reddening face would be noticed. Eyes focused on the task still at hand, you continued to close up the wound.

“I lucked out here in the ER.”

You could practically feel his eyes still on you, and the silly grin on his face made your cheeks flame up even more.

“Look!” You gesticulated a mock presentation of his newly stitched up hand and flashed him your pearly whites, trying to change the subject. “Not bad at all, right?”

He brought his hand up closer to his face and examined it with fascination mixed with a twinge of disgust. “How Frankenstein’s monster-esque.”

You reached out for his hand after giving him a few moments to gawk at it and started to wrap it up with the roll of gauze, finishing it up with a knot. Cleaning up your station, you watched Lin’s reaction and couldn’t help but laugh a little. What a relief, you were finally done.

“It’s shouldn’t scar though, so if you were worried about having aesthetically pleasing hands, those stitches won’t hinder you from pursuing a hand modeling career.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sincere smile. “This was a surprisingly positive experience for me.”

“Well, it was my pleasure. And thank you for educating me on America’s history.”

“It was my pleasure educating a beautiful doctor who won’t, in any way, shape, or form, have any use of her new knowledge of America’s boastful founding father.”

Damn him, he was too charming. Those mesmerizing eyes, tousled dark locks, it almost seemed like he was flirting – No, stop it. You’re exhausted. That’s all it was. Exhaustion. Delusion.

A yawn was making its way out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but let it out and stretch along with it.

“Early shift, huh?” He asked, the grin on his face unwavering. “I get that.”

“Actually, I’m on my way out.”

Saying those words lifted the weight off your shoulders, the contours of your body already feeling the warmth of your bed, your head already sensing the softness of your pillow, your mind already imagining the sensation of rest.

His face fell and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “Oh God, and here I was, talking your ear off for about an hour and–”

“Don’t even worry about it!” You waved him off and shook your head fervently. “It’s my job. I chose this life. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve just kept my mouth shut had I known.”

“Please don’t feel bad, I’m totally fine. It’s okay, I promise!” You pulled the gloves off your hand and threw them away before putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to assuage his worries. “Let me just slide out of here to write you a prescription and you can go home, okay?”

He nodded wordlessly and watched you walk out of the room.

A quick note on the pad and a grab of a handful of gauze and antibacterial cream later, you made your way back into Room 17.

“I’m ba-ack.” You sang as you swung open the door. “Okay, this is for 800 milligram Ibuprofen for pain if need be, and here are some supplies to keep that cut clean and covered, okay?”

There was a brief moment of quiet between the two of you.

He broke the silence.

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No,” you shrugged. “I was gonna tackle that issue after work.”

“Can I take you to breakfast?” He asked without missing a beat, cocking his head slightly to the side, eagerly anticipating your response.

What. That was not something you could do. Doctors were not to affiliate themselves with patients they’re currently treating outside of medical reasons.

Wait a damn minute. He was flirting. And you, stupid you, chalked it all up to merely hallucinating because you were so sleep deprived but –

“Sure,” you replied with a quick nod and a bashful smile plastered on your face, your mind not even comprehending that your mouth decided it was best to jump the gun. “I’d like that.”

And plus, technically, you weren’t even treating him anymore. Your job was done. You patched him up, told him how to care for it, and sent him on his way. His primary care physician was in charge of the follow-up. You were in the clear.

“I’m glad,” he stood up from the bed and grabbed the supplies you gave him and stuffed them in his front pocket. “Should I just… wait in the lobby then?”

“Um, well, the nurse will come in with your discharge papers and he’ll go over what the next few weeks are gonna be like. The game plan for your hand and what not. That should give me enough time to head downstairs to change really quickly and I’ll meet you back up here. Is that okay?”

Lin grinned at you. “Absolutely. I can’t wait.”

And with that, you hurriedly walked towards the elevators and rushed to down to the resident lockers. You frantically stripped yourself of forty-one hours’ worth of stress, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids and changed into comfy leggings, a black tank top, and a flannel to tie it all together. Messenger bag slung over your shoulder and across your body, you approached the mirror hung behind the door, examining your hair, ensuring you were, at the very least, presentable at this point.

Well, you thought to yourself. This’ll have to do.

You met back up with Lin in Room 17, peeking your head through the door with a faint smile. “Hey, all done?”

“All done,” he replied with a nod. “Ready?”

As I’ll ever be, you thought. “Ready.”

My Immortal: Hinata Shouyou Version
My Immortal: Hinata Shouyou Version

[Commissions] 

 Hi my name is Hinata Sunshine Little Crow Giant and I have fluffy sunshine orange hair (that’s how I got my name) with ginger streaks and sweat dripping tips because i volleyball so much that reaches my mid-back and radiant yellow eyes like sunshine tears and a lot of people tell me I sound like Ayumu Murase (AN: if u don’t know who that is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to the Little Giant but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a middle blocker but my height is super short and I suck at blocking. I have pale white skin. I’m also gonna be an ace, and I go to a high school called Karasuno in Japan where I’m in the first year (I’m sixteen). I’m a middle blocker (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love volleyball uniforms and I wear all my clothes with them. For example today I was wearing a black and orange volleyball shirt with matching sweatshirt below it and black and orange volleyball shorts, white trainers and white socks. I was wearing black wing eyeliner (because I’m a crow!). I was walking outside Karasuno. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very unhappy about. Oikawa stared at me. I put up my middle finger at him

“Hey Hinata!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Kageyama Tobio!

“What’s up Kageyama?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my team call me and I had to go away.

Uh, this is my first ever story. Please tell me if it’s good. p.s. thanks to Applepi5 for editing my story. And stupid shiratorizawa stop flaming my story!

Hi my name is Damien Dark'ness Dementia Raven Edgelord and I have short brown hair and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Charlie Ian (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to him but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m an atypical and I like making poeple do stuff. I have pale white skin. Today I was wearing a leather jacket, a metallica t-shirt, converse and black jeans. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. I was walking to go kidnap my therapist’s brother when some preps started staring at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

wake me up (can’t wake up)

Chapter 1.

AN: Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik) 2 my gf (ew not in that way) allura, bloodytearz666 4 helpin me wif da story and spelling. U rok! Lance ur da luv of my deprzzing life u rok 2! MCR ROX!

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Hi my name is Keith Dark’ness Dementia Kogane Way and I have a long ebony black mulletpter  (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my shoulders and shiny purple eyes like polished amethyst and a lot of people tell me I look like Billy Ray Cyrus (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a wizard, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts on the moon where I’m in the sixth year (I’m sixteen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Space Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was space snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

“Hey Keith!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Lance McClain!

“What’s up Lance?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

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AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me fangz! e

Wait For Me? - Chris Evans Imagine

summary: You need a break from it all, but what if when you’re ready to come back, Chris hasn’t waited for you? What if he moved on while waiting for a sign? 

words - 1500+

warnings: angst (barely) / fluffF

a/n: I felt like this story in my drafts deserved to see the day of light, it may be crap but oh well you win some you lose some. 

“I’m not ready yet, Chris. I can’t be with you because I couldn’t fully commit to you, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Tears ran down my face, as I began to walk away from one of the best men in the world. He was everything I wanted forever in a man, but I couldn’t… I had to find me before I could find us. As I walked away, my hands slipping from his own warm and protective hands. I could feel sobs rise in my throat as I walked away, trying to swallow the sobs until I could scream for hours in my car. 

“I’m going to wait,” Chris shouted. Or maybe I had imagined that? 

Turning around, I wiped my eyes, sniffled and wrapping my arms around myself for warmth since Chris’s no longer held me tightly. “I’m going to wait,” He repeated, walking towards me and cupped my face in his huge hand that somehow held my head perfectly. 

“YN, I will wait. Until you are ready. Whether that’s two weeks or two years. I want you, no one else.” I shook my head, pushing his hands away. I was angry at myself and him for ending up in this mess of heartache. 

“No! That’s… not fair to you! I can’t ask you to wait for someone you don’t even know is worth it.” My voice broke and I was backing up, trying to not let Chris touch me. Because if he did, I wouldn’t be able to push away this time. But he came towards me, taking safe steps, with his arms out pleading.

 “You may not be done, but I am. And I know what I want, and no one can deter me from it. You are… everything to me, baby. I want to wait for you, and I will. I’m one phone call away, and you know that. You can’t make me give up my love, YN. This is what I want, baby.”

 I smiled, shaking my head in the words I heard from his beautiful lips. 

“I’m going to New York, I bought a loft,” I whispered, looking up at him innocently. I saw his face perk up from my suddenly uncynical words, “Would you answer my calls even if it was just to talk?”

Chris moved closer to me, taking a hold of my left hand, where a tattoo of a lightning bolt was placed just days ago on the right inside of my middle finger. 

“I would answer you, just to hear your voice.” His gentle voice replied, putting his fingers in between mine, intertwining them. Little and big fingers that somehow felt so right together. 

“I-I.. um…” I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing these were our last words. 

For now. “You should know one thing before I leave, Chris .” Our eyes pulled up together, coming closer, as I put my right arm around the neck, letting it linger slightly. 

“That phone call will come. I promise. I don’t know when, I don’t even know what I’m fucking look for criteria of being able to start another relationship but all I know is that you, are my first call, Chris. I promise Blue Eyes. I swear…” I let the tears slip as I saw his eyes gloss over, spilling tears of his own that I hate to admit I was causing.

 “I swear, baby. Pinky swear.” I held out one pinky, my left hand. His left pinky swung and locked with mine. He kissed them and then my forehead. 

“Goodnight, lovely. I hear from yo-u soon.” 

Chris tried to speak with his most dapper voice but I knew he was dying. The tears still there, residing on his perfectly cold pink-pinched cheeks. 

“Ce est pas la fin.” 

We were in August, yet the air was bitter in Boston. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

And that was it. Chris and I parted ways, until December the following year. 

When the call I was terrified to make finally happened, I was expecting to hear he had moved on. I owed him at least this call, though, regardless of whether he’d given up. This call was never for me, it was always his.

“Hello?”

“H-Hi, Chris .” My accent was pushing out stronger from my nerves, his name sounded silky smooth even though his name had been turned into a Parisian Keer-is.

“YN? What’s up it’s nine here, aren’t you in London? I saw you on E net..-nothing. I saw you… on twitter, yeah twitter.” I smiled to myself from his nervous chattering in my ear. 

He had seen me and cared. It didn’t matter whether it was on a celebrity entertainment show. Chris felt that I was enough to remember.

“Anyway, um, isn’t it like three a.m. over there… are you okay?”

“No, actually. I mean yes, I’m perfectly fine but, it’s not three a.m. over here. Although the weather sure feels like Paris.” Chris chuckled softly, I knew he was rubbing the back of his neck now, stressing out on what to say next.

“Well, where are you then?” 

I knocked on the door, “Hold on, YN. There’s someone at my door. How have you been? Ya know… soul seeking, find yourself. All that good stuff?”

I heard him walk down his stairs, but not through the phone. 

“I’ve been great. I got to do some shooting on this new 1940’s movie, I loved it so much! That was really extraordinary. We filmed in Rome, Florence, and Naples, and I swear. Anywhere you stood, the sight was just indescribable…” I had to pause when I heard him get closer to the front door. 

My nerves were causing my heart to pulsate faster, and I felt the warmth rise in my cheeks, 

“a-and I think you would’ve loved it, C.”

His shadow showed up at the door and my heart jumped into my throat.

“Are you sure?” Opening the door, he was smiling ear to ear, and I couldn’t help but let out the most girlish giggle and squeak I have ever been able to conjure up. I showed toothy grin that only occurred when my heart can’t take the amount love or happiness I’m feeling. 

He still had his phone to his ear and I had my to mine. “Because I really love the view I’m getting right now.”

 I let my phone fall without a care and ran to him, even though he only within ten feet of me. We embraced and held each other close. Never wanting to let go of the other for fear that we’d slip away from each other, again. 

We were precious to one another, we always had been. Having Chris in my arms was like finally holding the one thing that I’d been missing for sixteen, painfully slow, dull, Chris-less months. 

“I missed you so much Chris,” I mumbled, almost letting out a sob from the ache that had finally been lifted from my chest.

“I know, I know. I missed you too, Jellybean.” I kissed his shoulder when I heard the nickname Chris glued to me. One he only ever called me when no one was around. That way it was just between the two of us, forever only our intimate secret.

“Did you give up on me?” Chris shook his head no, smiling into my hair. 

“I don’t give up when I’m in love, babe. Ever.”

anonymous asked:

I feel like the name hawkfrost if it wasn't canon would never fuckin be taken seriously if it was someone's oc or something

Hi my name is Hawkfrost and I have brown tabby fur with a white belly and a long fluffy tail and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look just like Tigerstar (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m Tigerstar’s secret sing and i’m glad I am because he’s a major fucking hottie. I was born a rogue but I’m also a clan cat and I live in a clan called RiverClan. I’m a warrior (in case you couldn’t tell). For example today I was walking on the border. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of cats from other clans stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

AU suggestion

Hi my name is Bro Shitty Number 42 Knight and I have long brown hair (that’s better than other hockey players’ flow) with a matching mustache that goes down to my lips and eyes that look like fields of weed and a lot of people tell me I look like Steve Buscemi (AN: if u don’t know who that is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Jack Zimmermann but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a hockey player but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white privilege. I’m also a gender studies major and I go to a liberal arts college called Samwell in New England where I’m in my senior year (I’m 22). I’m a stoner (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly nothing. I love zumiez and buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a tshirt with a marijuana on it with matching socks and a floral snapback, adidas slide-ons and an american flag vest. I was walking outside the Haus. A lot of lax bros stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is Warren Peace and I have long ebony black hair that reaches my shoulders and icy black eyes like black holes and a lot of people tell me I look like Ron Wilson (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not named after the book War and Peace but I wish I was because it’s a major f***ing masterpiece. I have swarthy tan skin. I’m also a superhero, and I go to a flying school called Sky High in America where I’m in the second year (I’m fifteen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black leather jacket with rips around it and black jeans, a black t shirt and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, no foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Sky High. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of sidekicks stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Shuffling Your Tarot Deck

It took me forever to learn to shuffle like this, but now that I have it’s my favorite way to bond with my deck before (and after!) a reading. It’s also easier on the cards than spreading them out on the table, or poker shuffling the smaller decks. All the videos I’ve found for this technique go way too fast, so I’ve gif’d it one bit at a time. 

Hold your deck in your non-dominant hand lengthwise, fingers on the bottom card’s face and thumb on the top card back. 

With your dominant hand, put your thumb and middle finger on the short edges on the deck, with the bottom card’s edge lining up approximately with your first knuckle. 

Grab that knuckle’s worth of cards and separate it from the rest of the deck (now called the main deck). 

Let the main deck lean against your fingers as you bring the other cards over to the thumb side. Let the top card in your dominant hand slide off to land in your nondominant hand, on top of the main deck. 

It’s okay if the cards come off in pairs and groups of five or ten instead of one at a time. Practice will help with that, but it also depends on how new your deck is and whether the cards are matte or glossy. 

Now let the main deck lean against your thumb, and bring the other cards over to the fingers side. Let top card(s) slide off to land on the bottom of the main deck. 

Bring the other cards to the thumb side of the main deck, and repeat. 

When you run out of the smaller stack, grab another bunch of cards like you did in the second gif and do it again!

It looks incredibly flashy and professional when you really get going. You will drop cards and that will lead to reversals, and maybe even some cards landing face up that you might want to keep out as significators in your reading. 

Now, the other side of shuffling is something I’ve seen people ask about pretty frequently: how long do I shuffle? Conventional advice is “until you feel like you’ve shuffled enough” or “when your deck says so,” but what if you don’t feel anything and you’ve been shuffling for ages? What if your deck doesn’t really communicate that way? Good news, friend…

You Can Ritualize That!

When one of my decks wasn’t telling me when to stop shuffling, I made shuffling a part of the spread. If I was doing a three card spread, I shuffled three times. For a Celtic cross spread, I’d shuffle ten times. And so on. I told myself that my deck would push its message to the top in that amount of time, and it did. Every time. It took a lot of the second guessing out of the process and allowed me to concentrate fully on the reading. 

As I’ve gotten more comfortable with my decks I’ve moved away from that somewhat, but I still go back to it if I’m not feeling a pull to stop shuffling in a particular reading. 

Feel free to message me if you have any questions or add commentary to this post! I hope it was helpful!

anonymous asked:

who wants to bet that katie mcgrath wrote my immortal

Hi my name is Kashy Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way McGra and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is Stingy and I have short earth brown hair (that’s how I got my name) with trimmed ends that reaches my ears and piercing brown eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Adam Smith (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da heck out of here!). I’m not related to Sportacus but I wish I was because he’s a major freaking hottie. I’m a puppet but my teeth are straight and white. I hate pale white skin. I’m also a child, and I live in a weird town called Lazytown where I’m one of five children (I’m a child). I’m a capitalist (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly yellow. I love JC penny and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a yellow vest with matching shorts and a white shirt with cufflinks, red bowtie and white socks and black dress shoes. I was wearing no makeup. I was walking outside the bank. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of proletarians stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

My Love is God, Chapter One

Hi my name is Jason Dark’ness Dementia Raven Dean and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my neck and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Christian Slater (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). [[I’m not related to Ryan McCarten but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a wizard, and I go to a magic school called Westerburg in Sherwood Ohio where I’m in the twelfth grade (I’m seventeeeeeeeeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love GoodWill and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black trench coat with matching black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt and black combat boots. I was walking outside Westerurg High. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of Heathers stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

“Hey JD!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Veronica Sawyer!

“What’s up Veronica?” I asked.

“Nothing.”She said shyly.

But then, I heard my slushies call me and I had to go away.

Takenaka: *reads ritsu’s mind*

Ritsu, internally: my name is Ritsu Dark’ness Dementia Kageyama and I have short ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m an esper but i found out recently. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the third year (I’m thirteen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Hi my name is Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire and I have long white hair (that’s special to galra! ) with purple streaks and black tips that reaches my mid-back and glowing yellow eyes like egg yolks and a lot of people tell me I look like Zarkon! (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Rolo but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a Galra but my ears are long and pointy. I have pale purple skin. I’m also an Altean, and I help rule over a massive empire that conquered most of the universe where I’m next in line for the throne (I’m seventeen). I’m a Galra (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly purple. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black armored suit with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, purple foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was flying in front of Voltron. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of paladins stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.