Summary: Taehyung came into your life accidentally. It was an accident, for you to meet him at all. Perhaps that’s why it’s so bittersweet having him
you know he cannot stay. [Revolutionary War!AU + slight Hamilton inspiration]
Bath Kol redesign for the Age of The Gray fancomic I’m working on! Still working on her personality, but I am much happier with this design compared to her old one. Which I linked down under it lol, a little comparison! Hope you guys like it!
Request: I heard your doing request for baby driver!! I was wondering when you are free if you can do an imagine with Baby? You can pick the prompt but can it be a little bit angsty and more fluff. Thanks so much !!
A/N: This got a hella ton angstier than I meant it to, I’m sorry. But I actually really like how it turned out??? I don’t know, please try to send me some feedback!
White lights and beeping machines filled Baby’s senses as he woke up. His vision was blurry as he sat up, not understanding the tubes in his arms that weighed him down. Groaning, he also realized his tinnitus was worse, the ringing he heard growing louder. Fantastic.
As his vision began to clear, he took a good look at the room around him. He was in a hospital bed surrounded by machines. A drip was attached to the tube that was inserted into the vein near the junction of his elbow. That must’ve been what weighed him down a minute ago. Everything was starting to make sense to him, except why he was here. He didn’t remember a thing.
Observing around him, he saw a call button on the night stand by his bed. It was placed rather far, he noted, as he stretched his entire upper half to reach it. Just barely, he clicked the edge of the red button. He faintly heard shuffling out his door.
Within seconds, three nurses and one doctor walked in, all seemingly fascinated by his consciousness.
“Miles?” the doctor asked. He was a middle-aged man, gray peeking out of his brunette hair. “Miles, do you feel okay?”
Baby barely heard the man through the ringing. He nodded, looking at the nurses while the changed his IV. He watched them before turning back to the doctor and asking, “Why am I here?”
The older man sighed as if it was a long story and sat on the edge of Baby’s bed. “You were in a rather bad car accident. In a run from the police, you’d lost control of the car and flew over a median. Your car flipped three times, Miles.”
“Was there anyone else in the car with me?” Baby immediately asked. The doctor hadn’t even answered and he already felt guilt eating at him.
“Two other men, but they were both released to the police a week ago.”
Baby began to calm down before he realized what he said. “Wait, a week ago? How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been in a comatose state for 23 days.”
Dread instantly filled him. He had been in a coma for a little over three weeks. Joe probably had no idea where he was, he had no one to care for him. And Y/N, she was probably worried sick. He had to get to her someh-
He broke out of his thought as he heard Styrofoam and cardboard clatter to the floor. Looking up, there you stood, wide eyed, cheap coffee spilt on the hospital floor. You both made eye contact. Slowly, you began to walk towards the bed, not believing your eyes. Then a smile started to form on your face and tears began to fall.
“Baby, you’re awake. I can’t believe you’re awake.” You instantly shot forward and hugged him, forcing him to let out a grunt. He must’ve had bruising everywhere because the hug really hit him. But nonetheless, he hugged you back tightly. You sat like that for a few minutes until you slowly pulled away. Your eyes still stayed on him.
Baby noticed that the doctor and nurses had left the room. And the ringing had stopped ever since you came in.
Baby didn’t even notice he was smiling until you said, “For someone who almost died, you seem kind of happy.”
He continued to grin as he took your hand. “You’re here.”
She slowly slid her hand away. “Yeah, well I had to get to Doc to find out where you were.” She wasn’t even looking at him anymore. “Oh, and don’t worry about Joe, I’ve been taking care of him.”
You cut him off, standing up from the bed. “’Sorry’ isn’t actually going to cut it this time, Baby. It’s not just you when you’re out on that road, you have people to take care of. You can’t just drive recklessly and think you’re the only one getting hurt. Joe needs you, I need you. When you drive, we might as well be in the backseat.”
“I’ll drive safer.”
“You say that every time!” You felt close to hysterics, angry tears streaming down your cheeks. “But you lied. You weren’t safe, and you almost got yourself killed. If you were going any faster, you wouldn’t even be here right now for me to yell at.” Finally sitting back on the bed, you grabbed his hand tightly. “Please find a way out, Baby, please. I don’t want the next time I see you to be in a morgue.”
The room fell silent as you both just stared at each other. Baby raised a shaky hand to your face and wiped away some smeared mascara. You looked like a mess. He had worried you enough to be this way. “I can promise you that you’ll never have to do that. I’ll find a way to stop driving for Doc. I’ll search for any way out that I can. Because you’re-“ The words caught in his throat as he got choked up, his own eyes welling with tears. “You’re right. I was reckless, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. And I never want you to go through what you just went through ever again.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and cried into his neck. He held you with all he had, lifting you so that you were lying next to him.
“I love you so much, Baby,” you mumbled into his skin.
He buried his nose into your hair and shut his eyes. “I love you, too. I’m not going anywhere.”
A/N:it’s problematic and full of plot holes but maybe let it go and try and enjoy it
So, this has been a long time coming, we know. It’s been a whirlwind of a time, and we can’t tell you how much has gone into this. We just wanted to thank all of you for being so patient with us, we know this took so much longer than we anticipated it would.
Thank you so much for supporting our lack of chill and insanity, it truly means so much to us that we have such an incredible following, and we still can’t believe all of you exist! We love you all so very much!! Both of us are extremely emotional about every single aspect of this universe, and we are legitimately super excited to show you what we’ve been concocting this entire time (so much yelling behind the scenes, y’all, omg).
Warnings: for now, it’s just alcohol and drinking, but this may or may not get a bit darker in parts two and three.
And now, without further ado, we hearby present part ONE of THREE of Adam’s Rib.
– Team GTNW –
“Hey, Lin, could I get another beer?”
“Stan,” Lin sighed, resting his hands on the bar in between them. “We both know you don’t need another.”
“Come on, you already took my keys so what harm could it do?”
Lin raised his eyebrows at the patron, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a fondness for wearing Hawaiian shirts in winter. As a bartender, Lin technically had the right to cut Stan off, call his slurring ass a cab, and move on to serving the handful of other patrons hanging around the bar at nine p.m. on a Tuesday.
Warnings: verbally abusive relationships, dad and boyfriend
Tick. “How’d you do on that test in history today?”
“It was really hard…” His brow crinkled. “I got a C.” Tick.
“C… Okay.” You could tell he was angry. It was always easy to tell. He was angry more than he was anything else. But every blue sky needs a storm, your mother would say. Otherwise it would be gray all the time.
You knew the foyer was only ten feet from the kitchen, and soon, “Why aren’t the dishes away?” Tick. You inhaled deeply.
“I had a lot of homework,” you mumbled, following him to the kitchen. “I’ll do it now.”
He shook his head stiffly, eyes locked on the counter. “No, I have to wait for them to be put away before I can do anything else. Might as well do it right.” Tick.
“I can really help, if you need it.”
“If I need it? Do I look incapable of doing housework?” Tick.
“No you jus-”
“Go upstairs!” Boom.
You nodded, offering him your best smile. “Okay, dad.”
You ran into your mother halfway up the stairs. Her hand wound around your bicep, a warmth pooling in her eyes. “You know he only yells because he loves you, and he wants you to do better.” You nodded, her kissing your forehead before meeting your father in the kitchen as you scurried to your room.
It’s a year later that you meet Jughead. Riverdale was a small town, and everyone was in Pop’s at least once a week. It was no surprise you two eventually found each other.
You had been sitting at the counter, lone tears still streaming from your eyes. He had sat next to you, for a while staying quiet.
“You know he loves you,” Pop told you with a frown, filling up your mug with hot coffee. You had known Pop since you were young, and now, ten years later, he knew how to read you… In fact he treated you better than your own father.
“I do… By now I do.” Satisfied with your answer, Pop went on to serve other customers. “Just don’t understand why he has to yell at me about everything,” you finished your sentence, murmured words to yourself.
“Because he’s an ass.” You looked up and over to a boy your age with dark hair and a gray beanie that covered most of his head anyways. He had a solemn expression on his face. “He yells at you about everything because he’s an ass.”
“No,” You shook your head. “It’s because he loves me and he wants me to do better. I know that’s why, I don’t know why I ever questioned it.”
“Nobody deserves to be yelled at for everything.”
“He works hard for my family. What I don’t deserve is the work he puts into my future for the thanks I give him.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re wrong. He doesn’t yell because he loves you. That’s a conclusion that’ll only hurt you.”
Jughead wasn’t wrong, and the years that followed were tough ones, but he had stayed.
The quick conversation about your dad at the counter led to a three hour long conversation about everything else. A three hour long conversation led to a friendship that lasted through everything else.
It’s a year after that when you meet the first boy who wakes up the butterflies in your stomach. It was probably because he was a brooding, handsome kid out of the stories you had read as a kid.
And while from that conversation at the counter you took Jughead, you never took his advice.
When your boyfriend yelled, you cried, but you always stayed. You’d end up in your bed at night, texting Jughead that it was okay, and you knew how to handle it. You didn’t need a hero.
But maybe you needed a Jughead.
He was smaller even then, a scrawny, misunderstood boy, who wanted nothing but the world for you. So he punched your stupid boyfriend until that boy’s nose cracked and blood streamed for at least half an hour.
“Why’d you do that?” You yelled at him, your boyfriend now at home. Your mother was upstairs, your father out.
“He wouldn’t stop yelling at you,” Jughead grumbled in response. “You. Don’t. Deserve that.”
“It’s because he loves me!”
“It’s not!” He shouted. Immediately afterward, a hand crawled over his mouth, in shock at his own volume. “I’m sorry.”
“You yelled,” you whispered. “You yelled, because you’re mad that I’m always yelled at.”
“I didn’t mean to yell.” Shutting his eyes for a moment in frustration, in disappointment in himself. “I swear my yelling is different than theirs.”
“Sounded the same.” The words that fell from your lips brought tears to his eyes.
He took careful steps forward, pulling you into his arms. “Did it feel different?”
“Felt like you cared about me,” your words brushed over his neck.
“But did it feel different?” You nodded into his shirt. “Good. I’m sorry I yelled. I’ll try not to get upset like that again.”
“I’m sorry I made you want to yell,” you apologized instinctively.
“You didn’t make me want to yell,” he sighed, lifting his chin so it rested on top of your head. “I’m just sick of you letting yourself get treated like this. You were raised on it, I know. But you don’t have to deal with that. Especially not anymore.” A few moments of silence followed, before it was broken by a deep, heart wrenching sob. “Oh, Y/N.”
I think Nyota would be a semi-retired admiral who’s regularly called in to intimidate (read: terrify) anyone who’s giving the Federation a hard time. She strolls in, all five-and-a-half feet of her, uniform and gray hair immaculate, eyes hard as steel. Humans and aliens alike bend to her will with very little persuasion.
T’Pring is still pretty young for a Vulcan but she has aged, long gray hair and soft skin. She has chosen to spend this period of her life mostly at rest, to be with her human bondmate as much as possible. While Nyota is at Headquarters T’Pring putters in her garden, which is huge and eclectic as only a botanist’s garden can be.
When Nyota is home they work on the garden together, or head out to visit cultural institutions and nice restaurants. They spend hours at plant nurseries. They travel widely so Nyota can speak as many languages as possible. They visit Jim and Spock and chat about the old days.
On warm San Francisco nights they curl up together on a lounger in the garden, not talking, just feeling each other in the bond. After a lifetime of achievement and constant activity, they’ve come to enjoy the quiet.
I know this is an unpopular opinion but I don’t care
I love Assassin’s Creed Revelations
I love Sofia Sartor and how smart and resourceful she is I love how bright and sunny Constantinople is I love how dark and mysterious the puzzles are I love Yusuf Tazim I love an aging Ezio Auditore with gray hair and a gray beard I love the beautiful market places and people I love the hook and blade I love the suspense of not knowing if Desmond is gonna make it out I love Yusuf Tazim I love how Ezio slowly learns more and more about Altair I love the skyline filled with mosques and ships I love Yusuf Tazim