Love Torn in Dream

You didn’t just break promises, you broke me.
—  “I promise to love you forever”
Fic Recs!! Week 4

Week 3 (has week 1 and 2 links)


Now or Never P9 ~ @wayward-mirage

Lips of an Angel P2  P3  ~ @sis-tafics

Fragments ~ @torn-and-frayed

He Loves Me, He Loves me Not ! @becaamm 

Dreams Become Reality P2 ~ @meganlpie

Until It’ s Gone P2 ~ @trexrambling

Rescue Me ~ @tssweetsfanfic


Beep (Mick x Reader) ~ @fangirlingfanatic2442

Flutter ~ @ellen-reincarnated1967

Following the Colorful Paws ~ @jensen-jarpad

Baby Talk P1 ~ @roxy-davenport

10 Ways to Say I Love You ~ @deanssweetheart23

Dean vs. Essential Oil ~ @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps

Centerfold Dance Party (Priestly x Reader) ~ @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms

Clinical Excellence (House M.D. Fic) ~ @jkqueenly 

Best Teacher In The World ~ @effie-w


Home ~ @dont-hate-relate-pls


Possession ~ @castielspahdehrah

Ain’t Nobody Need You Like I do ~ @faith-in-dean

shades of loneliness

a crayola box of grays, these feelings, 

so many brilliantly silent shades of loneliness 

that everyone’s world is stained with, despite everything

killed passion, shot love, empty hearts, torn souls, 

ripped dreams, stormy minds, 

and in my case a chronic case of selfishness 

but i draw a tiny pinpoint in the center of my cement parchment, 

bright yellow, 

and i call it hope 

-rachel | @whatrachelwrote

Minho x reader

Character: Minho (the maze runner)
Rating: K+, fluff
Words: 1.663

Warning: none         

Request:  Hi :] Could you maybe write one where Minho is in love with the reader but doesn’t know how to tell her, so maybe the other gladers help him come up with a plan to tell the reader he likes her? Fluffy please (^w^) -Anonymous

A/N: Weeeeeee I’m in such a good mood today, can you tell? Anyway I kind of based the idea for this one on something I did myself last Thursday (yes I am a sappy romantic) so yeah. Hope you like it!

And yes I have a thing for people falling and laying on top of each other bite me

A rose

Weird, you thought. Everyone was crowding around the Box. A new load had arrived a couple of minutes ago, so now the gladers were inspecting the gain.
You examined the strange thing you just found in the Box. A little packet, not bigger than the palm of your hand. It was white, and you were just about to read the small black letters on the backside when someone snatched it out of your hand.

“Hey!”, you shouted, twisting to spot the thief.

“Ah ah, that’s mine y/n,” Newt said. The blonde held the packet behind his back and didn’t succeed in hiding a mischievous grin.

“But Neeewt,” you whined, “I want to know what it is.”

Newt only shrugged in response, and with a wink, he disappeared in the swarm of gladers.
You pushed through the pack, muttering apologies here and there. He wasn’t going to get away with this, running off leaving you here wondering what that odd object was.
Just as you could catch a glimpse of his messy blonde hair, someone hit you full on, causing you to fall down. A couple of gladers cursed under their breaths, telling you to move out of the way.

“… sorry?” Minho’s body hovered over yours, his hands flat on the ground above your shoulders. He had a wry smile on his face, his eyebrows knit together.

“Get off of me you shuckface,” you said, yet you couldn’t help but laugh. Minho may seem like a badass, yet he proved to be a massive dork as well. And that was one of the many, many things you liked about him.
He pushed himself up and reached out a hand to get you on your feet. You wiped the dirt of your pants. When you looked up again, you saw the troubled expression on his face, like a layer of paint that dried and started to itch, clearly frustrating the runner.

“Why were you in such a hurry anyway?”, you asked lightly, trying not to sound accusing.

“I’m, I’m looking for something.” His eyes fell down, as if the answer was right under his nose.

“Well what are you looking for then? Maybe I can help.”

“No! I mean, no, thanks a lot, but I don’t need any help.” That forced smile re-appeared.

“Really Minho, it’s no problem. I mean I didn’t put anything specific on the list this month so I have time to-”

“Minho?”  He had simply run off. That condescending slinthead, you thought. First he acts all sweet and cute and then he just leaves me here, like a dog that has to waits for its owner’s return. Well over my dead body.

Just as you turned around, another glader was standing right in front of you.

“Woah there!” You held your hands up. “What is it with boys blocking my way today.”

“Nice to see you too,” Newt smiled. You noticed his empty hands and frowned.

“Where’s the packet thing?”

“The what?”

“You know, the white packet thing you took from me,” you sighed.

Newt faked an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ha ha very funny.” You stuck out your tongue and left the crowded area.


Two months later

“Jeff could you hand me the anti-inflammatory ointment please?” you asked.

“Oh nice work on that stitching y/n,” Jeff said, giving you the salve. Gally had somehow managed to both strain his wrist while working and cut it as well, so there was a gash running from the beginning of his wrist up to the inside of his elbow. Luckily the Med-jacks still had enough thread in store so you had been able to stitch it, but there was a chance it might get infected.  And that’s where the ointment came in.

“Okay Gally, so this salve helps treat the pain,” you explained while applying it gently.

“Where do you guys even get this stuff from?”, Gally asked, a spasm of pain contorting his face a bit.

“We put it on the list that goes down with the Box, just like you builders do. We asked for this ointment about- How long ago Clint?”

“’Bout three months.”

“About three months ago.”

Gally suddenly smiled. “Ah, I see. Special delivery that day, huh.”


The night came quickly, swallowing the gladers in the darkness. You just had dinner with your habitual group of friends, except Minho hadn’t showed up. Pretty unusual for him, not only since he loved to eat, but also because he enjoyed talking to you. At least you thought so. Over the last couple of months, after the incident with Newt and the packet, it had seemed as if Minho had grown more distant of you. When you guys did encounter each other, every evening at dinner for example, he acted… nervous. Maybe even impatient, as if he eagerly wanted to tell you something but had to keep it secret.

Newt copied the behaviour of his friend tonight. Acting all mischievous, an everlasting smile on his face, he told you to go to the gardens. You weren’t very fond of strolling around in the glade all by yourself at night. But hey, if the second-in-command asks you something, you better not ignore it. Besides, Newt was your friend and he couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Still, a nervous feeling fluttered around in your stomach.

The ground turned from stone to grass and mud as you entered the garden. You immediately noticed a pool of light on the ground right behind trellis system the track-hoes used to grow tomatoes on. Through the leaves and stems of tomatoes, you could see a figure. Male, of course, since you were the only girl around.

You walked around the last trellis of the row and when you looked turned around the corner, you saw Minho standing there.

He was dressed neatly, or as neat as you could be dressed in the glade. His normal outfit, consisting of ripped pants and a dirty blue shirt, had made place for grey, new looking pants and a white blouse with some sort of jacket over it. You couldn’t help but noticed he was holding something behind his back, and the way he shifted his weight from one feet to the other made his whole attitude seem nervous. As if he was hiding all the secrets of the world behind him.


Minho took a couple of steps closer as he spoke. “I, uhm, I got something for you.”
He revealed the mystery when he held out hand: a rose.

“A rose?”

“Yeah. I thought you’d like that.” He gave you the flower and its scent immediately caused you to close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. The sharp end of the thorns against your fingers, the coolness of the petals and the colour of the rose, red like the sky at sunset…
It was beautiful.

“But I’ve never seen them grow in the gardens? How did you even get one?”, you asked.

“A whole lot of planning,” he winked as he moved closer. “Remember the supply day when I kind of ran you over?”

“How could I forget,” you laughed.

“Yeah well, Newt had agreed to put rose seeds on the supply list that week, so I was searching for that packet and couldn’t find it. Then luckily Newt noticed you had it and grabbed it, so he could plant the seeds and now they’ve grown.” He stepped aside and with a ‘Tada!’ hand movement showed a bush of roses, all blooming like red lips ready to be kissed. A smile crept up your face.

“Hang on, you said luckily. Why hide it from me? Why even hide it from the other gladers, I mean, they’re gorgeous.” You looked down at the flower and twisted it around.

“I did it for you,” he mumbled, his eyes on the rose in your hand. “As a surprise. And also to say..”

“Hmm?” You broke away your stare from the flower and suddenly Minho was only inches away. His hand found its way to yours, interweaving the stem of the rose with your fingers.

“I know it might sound foolish. And I know I may not be the type of guy you’re into, but. But you’re the type of girl I’m into.” He sighed. “All I’m saying is that I shucking love you, alright.”

“You love me?” A fuzzy warm feeling erupted in your stomach, much like an inactive volcano put on fire by his voice. It was all so unreal. The months of planning it took him to grow the roses, his fingers intertwined with yours and one hand now on your waist, pulling you closer with ever breath he took.

“I love your touch more than the feeling of cleaving through the wind in the maze. I love your smile more than the campfires we make because it shines so much brighter. I love you, so much, that I’m torn between going to sleep to dream of you, and staying awake to see you.”

Your lips connected with his, and the scent of flowers and fruit and love hung in the air. Minho stiffened at first, but soon enough his free hand cupped your cheek and he smiled into the kiss. When his lips left yours to breath in deeply, your foreheads kept touching. For a moment you stood there, trying to figure out the patterns in each other’s eyes, much like solving an unsolvable maze.

“The rose thing is pretty shucking cute though,” you whispered against his mouth. Minho gave you a quick peck.

“Ah you have to thank Newt then. And Gally, he came up with the idea.”

“Who would have guessed. Gally the sappy romantic,” you chuckled.

“Who would have guessed, me kissing the prettiest person in the glade.”

Minho smiled and that night, the warm touch of his lips barely left yours.


Your wings
fleetingly as clouds
and dissipating as easily

Your wings
beautifully forged
with colors no man could ever dream of to perceive

Your wings
created by love
torn off by hate

Your wings
once a life source
a pride

Your wings
are not you

Your wings
are your past

Your wings
a shadowy image
a memory

But you still remain
and for that I am truly grateful

Cause I will have you
with or without Your wings

- celtic-poetry

dreaming of you: [4:48 am] i’m thinking of things so wrong, with my eyes closed, screaming in my sleep, dreaming of dreams so sinful, so torn. oh love, i’m all alone, it’s the middle of the night, and i’m thinking of you.

last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - dala; alone/with you - daughter; if you wait - london grammar; fossa - daughter; rose (acapella) - anna tsuchiya; lonely hands - angus and julia stone; hiding tonight - alex turner; atlas - coldplay; the sinking man - of monsters and men; morning song - the lumineers; the devil’s tears - angus and julia stone; last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - low

listen to me - for god’s sake, i’ve been dreaming of you for centuries.

first cringe of morning

A post-wall scene, pre-BWB Doomsday ficlet

655 words

There are moments when Rose can forget that she’s lost almost everything, moments when the pain of having love and dreams and forever torn away isn’t trying to create a void where her heart had once resided.

(Sometimes she thinks that there already is a void there, just like the one that separates her from the home she’d made in the TARDIS and in his arms. Some days she feels so numb that she can’t help but think that all the void stuff that had floated around her once upon a time had made a home in her soul.)

(She almost retches when she sees a pair of 3-D glasses and is reminded of how he’d grinned while explaining what they were for.)

These moments of blissful forgetfulness never last long. She finds them in between sleep and waking, those precious seconds of peace and contentment and wondering what the Doctor had planned for the day before reality came crashing down once again, crushing her and leaving her gasping for breath as everything fell apart anew.

Keep reading

If I could really get ontop of my ridiculous eating habits, holy hell i’d have the most bangin’ body. Forever torn between my love of food and the desire for my dream body. *frustrated groan*

anonymous asked:


As a hello

He’s almost always the first one awake.

He’s found that Abby will spring up out of bed at a moment’s notice, without any grogginess or disorientation, if need be; knows that she can wake immediately at the slightest sound of urgency in voice.

Otherwise? Abby is many things, but a morning person does not seem to be one of them.

It’s a surprising thing he’s learned only recently; a facet to her personality he never would have guessed.

As he looks at her sleeping form next to him, he can’t help but feel awe at all the hidden things he gets to know about her, now. That she can’t fall asleep unless her feet are covered. That she’s more ticklish on her right side than her left. That a kiss along the slope of her neck always makes her shiver.

He feels her stir next to him, her body stretching languidly along the lines of his. As she turns to him and smiles, the sleep still weighing heavily in her eyes, he indulges in one more thing that is new and uncomplicated and extraordinary.

Brushes the hair from her face and says:

“I love you.”

Not as a shaking confession, torn from him in hopeful dreaming. Not as a whispered secret, a wish given shape only to the air and the stars.

But something simple and light - as obvious and expected as “hello” or “good morning,” as easy as breathing.

The sleep disappears from her eyes as she smiles up at him, threads her hands in his hair to bring him down for a kiss.