although i wish i could have giffed how it looks on my phone

Elijah Saves The Day

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Warnings: Guns and some violence

Word Count: 594

It was getting late, which was your cue to head home. Although Rebekah invited you to stay the night, you denied her invitation because you felt like sleeping in your own bed tonight. It was just one of those nights. You spent the day helping Rebekah prepare for her house party tomorrow which was quite exhausting.

Rebekah and Elijah both offered to give you a ride home, but you chose to walk home since you only lived a couple of blocks away. You did fight back and forth about it because they care for your safety, but they finally budged and let you be.

The weather was just perfect and the streets were silent. Not a person in sight. You had earbuds in playing your favorite songs, humming happily to the lyrics. “See, Rebekah and Elijah had nothing to worry about.” You thought to yourself.

But you thought too soon. You were almost one block away from your house until a stranger stops right in front of you. Being too focused on your phone, trying to pick the next to song to play, you accidentally bumped into the tall man.

“Oops sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You half smiled, then attempted to walk away, but the man tightly grabs you by the arm. “Wha-what are you doing?! Let go of me!” You yelled, trying to break free of his grip, your earbuds falling out of your ear.

The stranger takes out a gun from his pocket, pointing it at your head. “Give me your phone and your purse.”

“What?” You were frightened by now, making you wish you were a vampire like the Mikaelson’s so that you would have the strength to free yourself from your attacker.

“NOW!” He demanded.

You were ready to hand him your belongings until you heard another man behind you. “Let her free.” You turned around to see that it’s Elijah. Oh, how happy you were to see him. You also wondered how Elijah just happened to know that you were in danger. Could he have been following you this entire time? Who knows. But if so, you are damn well glad he did.

“Or what?” The man cocked the gun, getting it ready to fire at your head. This definitely pissed of Elijah. He cares for you so much that seeing you in any kind of danger is the last thing he wants in life. Elijah’s eyes immediately went red, revealing his veins and fangs. 

“What the hell!” This frightened the man, which caused him to let go of you and he immediately shot at Elijah instead of you. It obviously did some damage to him, but your safety is more important to him than his pain, so he tried his best and vampire sped towards your attacker, breaking his head off, leaving him dead on the floor.

Elijah saw how frightened you were from being close to death and comforted you right away by holding your head to his chest, rubbing your head, letting you cry. “There there, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Elijah.” You sniffled, looking up at Elijah. 

“Of course.” He let go of you, taking out a handkerchief from his jacket, handing it to you, looking at your with worry in his eyes. “Give me your word that next time, let us give you a ride home.”

“Yeah of course.” You responded, putting your phone and ear buds in your purse.

“Good.” Elijah smiled, putting an arm out for you to hold, which you clunged on to. Then, he walked you home.

Deadly Secrets

(gif credit to the creator)

Part Ten

Master List

Pairing: Jared x Reader
Word Count: 1,144
Warnings: language, murder, homicide, murder-related details
A/N: This is the final part, my loves! Thank you SO SO SO SO SO much for all of your love and support with this story, it means the world to me. Italics are flashbacks. Hope you guys like it! Anyway, feedback for this is crucial! :)

Keep reading

B.A.P Reactions To You Being More Sexual While You’re Drunk


He turned towards you with a funny expression but he still offered you a smile, “good morning Jagiya. I laid out some medication for your hungover on the table.”

You gave a small nod before you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, “why aren’t you looking me in the eye?”

“Um…” He tried to stall.

“We slept together, that much I gathered. I just don’t get why you’re acting so weird about it.”

He turned back towards you his eyes slightly widening in surprise, “you seriously don’t remember?” You shook your head.

As Youngjae began to recount all the events from last night, you could barely stop yourself from hiding under the sheets in embarassment. You were in a permanent state of cringe and regret, as he began telling you about how your friends had given him a call to come pick you up after they deemed you far too drunk to send you home alone.

You could tell by the twitch of his lips the he wanted to laugh, “when I got there…you were dancing all sexily on top of one of the tables.” You were mortified. Absolutely mortified. You would never drink again.

“You nearly cried when I told you we had to go home,” he let out a small laugh this time, “and yes. We did sleep together, however not in the way that you’re thinking,” His laughter rung louder this time.

“T-then why was I naked? ”

“I mean, you did try. The second I got you home you began trying to take off my pants. You wouldn’t give up so instead you tried to seduce me into sleeping with you by taking off all your clothes. It took me nearly 30 minutes to finally get you to sleep.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry Youngjae,” you apologized genuinely feeling sorry for the trouble you must have put him through. He simply shook his head and have you a soft smile as he walked towards you.

“Don’t be.” He patted your head,” just know I won’t ever let you live this down.” With a wink and smirk he turned back to continue cooking you breakfast.

Originally posted by jaelo


It must’ve been past 1am when Jongup was awoken by the sound of his phone ringing. Slightly annoyed by the late call, he let it ring a few times before picking up.

“Hello?” He answered, his voice an octave deeper than usual. 

“Jagiya~,” You slurred into your cellphone and began batting your eyelashes regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see.

His eyes widened in surprise, “Y/N?” It only took him a couple of seconds after that to figure out that you were drunk.

“Are you in bed right now?” You asked, in what you thought was a seductive tone.

He ignored the question already knowing where this would lead to, “Y/N where are you?”

“Not in your bed although I really wish I was…naked of course.”

Jongup lip slightly twitched. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t allow himself to be phased by the seductress that you’d turn into whenever you had too much to drink. He needed to figure out where you were. Suddenly thinking of something he asked you to turn the call into a video call. You more than happily complied but he slightly regretted his decision when he saw the camera angled down your shirt. 

“Y/N let me see where you are.”

You brought the camera to your face with a pout, “aren’t you affected by me at all? Am I not attractive?”

Jongup bit his lip, the conversation having taken a completely different direction then he had planned. 

“Jagiya, of course I find you attractive. You’re beyond beautiful so can you please show me where you are so I can come pick you up and take you home?” He made sure to let the words sound suggestive as he knew this was probably the only way to get through to you now. 

However, you were feeling like quite the tease. You smiled and shook your head, “I’m not telling.”

It was when he let out a sigh that he heard someone calling your name from the other side of the screen. 

“Thank God. I finally found you,” you heard a familiar voice say before your best friend whom Jongup had met a few times before, came on screen.

“Hey Jongup,” she greeted, “as you can probably tell Y/N had one too many drinks…yeah sorry about that but we’re at the Vault. I’m assuming I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll try to get there as quick as I can,” He promised, “please make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble before I get there.” After hanging up he got ready in record time and was out the door.

(credit to rightful gif owner)


Although you and Junhong had gone out drinking multiple times together, you had never truly allowed yourself to completely on drunk. Perhaps it was because each time the two of you went one or more of the members would tag along. You didn’t mind though, genuinely enjoying their company. Their presence was also good to have as they stopped you from becoming too irresponsible and getting drunk. Seeing you drunk was a sight you’d rather not have any of them see.

However, you figured it was time Junhong found out the type of person you became and he was more than excited for the grand reveal.

“Junhong,” you said turning yourself on the bar stool to face him, “I’m just going to warn you right now. I act…totally different.”

He nodded his head with a grin, “yes I know. You’ve told me that like 5 times now.”

You looked at him for a couple more seconds trying to figure out whether to tell him in what way or not. You finally decided that you’d just let him find out himself. With that now decided, you turned towards the bar tended and waved him over.


You’re not exactly sure yourself how many drinks you’d had before you had lost complete control of your body. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes almost held a certain haze to them. Junhong hadn’t noticed your state yet, but he would find out real soon what he had been most curious about. 

“Junhong,” you breathed. He turned to look at you and you gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, resting a hand on his cheek, “you’re incredibly handsome did you know that?” You didn’t let him answer before your other hand began to slip up one of his thighs. He quietly sucked in his breath and looked at you in surprised. 

Pulling him towards you, you laid your lips against his ear, “meet me in the washroom.” With that, you pulled away and gave him a wink before clumsily heading towards the restroom area. 

Once inside the women’s washroom, you waited a few minutes for Junhong but he never came. Your lips were in a pout when you got an idea.  Giggling to yourself, you got into one of the stalls and took off your shirt. With your bra now exposed you angled the camera towards yourself to take a picture. You bit your lip and teasingly lowered a bra strap for affect.

Junhong was standing outside the women’s washroom in deep deliberation when his phone began to buzz with incoming texts. When he saw that they were from you he opened them only to immediately press lock on his phone. He nervously glanced around to make sure no one was there before unlocking it again. He could feel himself flush as he laid his eyes on the skimpy photos. Although they were blurry, they were still visible enough for him to begin getting excited.

When a new text came in of you in nothing but your underwear he silently cursed. Before he knew it, he walked into the women’s washroom making sure to lock the door behind him. 

Originally posted by matokisonyeondan


| Hyung Line | Maknae Line |


Sorry that for the wait but here’s the second part! I hope it turned out okay<3

~Admin Coffee

Sweet Dreams (11)


Pair: Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook (poly relationship)
Word count: 1,080

Part one ; Part two ; Part three ; Part four ; Part five ; Part six ; Part seven ; Part eight ; Part nine ; Part ten ;

Gif found on Google

You couldn’t believe he actually did it.

But if you were being honest with yourself, you really shouldn’t have been. Something like this didn’t seem much like something Taehyung wouldn’t do.

You were looking at your phone for what was probably the hundredth time, looking at the photo that was being passed around.

Taehyung had posted it on the BTS twitter and it was taken down shortly after, but not before the fans got to it. Screenshots were everywhere. A picture of the three of you, Jungkook and Taehyung each kissing one of your cheeks and making a hand heart together below your face while you took the picture. The caption of the tweet read simply “confirmed -V”

You distinctly remember when the picture was taken too. It was early on into the relationship, Taehyung wanted a cute picture of the three of you so he could have it as his background. He then later got into both yours and Jungkook’s phones and changed your backgrounds to it.

Taehyung and Jungkook had been called to talk to management as soon as he posted the picture, needing to go talk to them, so you were in your apartment alone, just thinking about it.

You’d imagined that you’d feel a great amount of relief with being open with the both of them, but you didn’t. You felt the same as you did before. Nothing really changed except that people now know about all three of you instead of you and Jungkook.

You were deep in thought when you heard the door open, followed by a loud “Wooo!”

Taehyung and Jungkook walked in, both grinning. “I’m guessing the talk went well? You guys look really happy,” you said to them.

Taehyung flopped next to you, his head on your lap. “They said they wish they could do something, but it’s spread too much, so for now, they’re gonna let it play out.”

Jungkook sat down on the end of the couch, Taehyung putting his legs on him. “So basically, for now, we’re all allowed to be open.”

You nodded and smiled widely at the two of them. “That’s great! You two can be open as well, the fans are going to be ecstatic,” you said.

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah, of course. They seem to like you though, at least most of them, so we should be fine.”

You shrugged. Only time could tell.

“Y/N help!” you heard a cry from the living room. You were in the kitchen, making lunch. You sighed and decided to go see what was going on.

When you walked into the living room, you were greeted by Taehyung and Jungkook on the floor, your son Ilsung sitting on top of them and laughing. “Y/N we’ve been captured, help us!” the older man said, smiling, clearly doing it to make Ilsung laugh.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s lunch time anyway, I think he’ll be fine letting you go long enough to eat, yeah?” you asked the boy.

Quickly, Ilsung got off his fathers, going to the table to wait for his food. He had a strong love for food, something his uncle Jin was proud to find out and used to his advantage when he was watching him.

You remembered when you found out you were pregnant with Ilsung almost three years ago. As soon as you found out, Taehyung and Jungkook decided that they didn’t want to know who’s baby it technically was, that they were content both being the fathers. However, once he was born and got older, the fact that he looked just like Jungkook made it clear who’s it was. 

Despite that, Taehyung still treats Ilsung like he has no clue, happily treating him like his own. However, he became mindset that he got to make the next one. He definitely followed through. You were once again pregnant, 17 weeks along.

As you were walking around, passing out the food, you were stopped by a hand on your stomach. “Noona, make sure you don’t strain yourself, alright?” Jungkook asked, rubbing your rounded stomach. Despite the fact that you had his child and have been with him for going on 6 years, Jungkook still called you that, although you didn’t mind. It was cute.

You nodded before continuing to set the food down. “I know, I won’t. After all, all you two let me do is cook when I’m pregnant, I’m not porcelain you know,” you stated.

Taehyung swallowed his food and nodded. “We know, but we don’t want you to get hurt or hurt the baby. After all, we took good care of you last time, and look how that turned out,” he said, looking at Ilsung, who was mowing down on his food.

You nodded and walked to Ilsung, kissing the top of his head. “I know, I wouldn’t take him any other way.”

Taehyung nodded again. “By the way, we’re going to be having another comeback soon, so we’re not gonna be around a whole lot,” he said with a frown.

You sat down in your usual spot, looking at him. “Yeah? I’m used to it. It’s not like you guys haven’t been idols most of our relationship, and with Jungkook it’s been the entire relationship.” you said, starting to eat.

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, who spoke. “Yeah, we know. We’re going to have someone stay with you while we’re gone so that you won’t be alone.”

You finished the food in your mouth before sighing. “Guys, I really don’t need that. I’m fine on my own, I can handle-”

“Yes, we know but it’s just in case. You’re pregnant and Ilsung is two, you’re both pretty vulnerable while we’re gone. Just so we feel a bit better about leaving, okay?” Taehyung asked, taking your hand and squeezing it.

You paused, looking between your boyfriends, then to your son before sighing. “Yeah..okay. To make you feel better,” you said with a playful smile.

They became busy again a week or two later, having a friend stay with you to help out. Their schedule cleared up just in time to be around for the birth of your new daughter, once again, looking just like her father. You made a joke about how nobody would ever be able to know they’re your kids because neither of them looks like you, but in all reality, you wouldn’t change it for the world. You love your kids exactly as they are, as well as their two idol fathers.

End! Hope you enjoyed!

I love you, idiot!

Reader x Dean Winchester


Imagine: being in love with Dean for a long time, without him knowing it, and finally having the guts to admit it.

Word count: 1508

If you were to be honest, the hunter life was hard. Being on the road all the time, fighting things and saving people… It was too overwhelming and you thought about calling it quits a couple of times. Never really did, anyway, because, although you did not like to admit, you were into the rush. “Like an adrenaline junkie”, you thought, which made a soft giggle slip and you shook your head, finally coming back to reality.

“Black coffee, no sugar, please. Also, I’d love some pancakes.” You looked up at the waiter, making sure he was writing it down. “Dean, what are you having?”

“Same kind of coffee, but I want bacon and eggs.”

“Right. Anything else?”

“We’re good, I think.”


The chubby man left and you were all alone with Dean Winchester. Oh, right, he was… The complicated part of your life. You met him a few years earlier and, from day one, you knew you were in love with him. Of course it would never work, because he only saw you as child he needs to take care of. It was pretty fucking annoying sometimes.

The place was nearly empty and you thought if Sam would be okay on his own. After the whole Lucifer released thing, the younger Winchester was in a bad shape. He refused to sleep or eat, doing just the enough amount to stay functional and because his older sibling would talk him into it. You worried about him, Sammy was like, the big brother you never had.

“You seem a bit off, Y/N.”

“I’m just wondering if Sam is okay, Dean. I’m so worried about him.”

“He’s fine.” His deep voice made you shudder and skip a breath. It was irrational what he did to you with so little things. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. What do you want to know?”

“Are you in love with Sam?”

You choked and widened your eyes, not being able to believe he actually asked that.

“W-what? Why are you asking me that?”

“I-I don’t know, you two are always together and I…”

“No, I’m not in love with him. I wish I was, but no. No way. He’s like a brother to me.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.” The green eyed man seemed genuinely embarrassed, which made you smile. It was the first time Dean seemed interested in your love life. Well, aside the multiple times he dragged you out of dates when you were younger. Back then it was just his big brother feelings taking over. Now was different and you liked it. “I just need my bacon. I’m starving.”

“You should eat other stuff. Like, healthy food.”

“I’m not eating like a seven year old, Y/N. I’m not you.”

You narrowed your eyes and scoffed.

“One of these days you’ll have a heart attack and hopefully I’ll be right next to you to say: ’I told you so, jackass!’.”

“You sound like a suburb mum. Trying to teach me how to live my life.”

“Oh come on, admit it: you need me around. To set you straight.”

“Totally.” He retorted, sarcastically.

Although you wanted to keep playing his game, the waiter came with your request. The coffee smelt so great, you actually conceived the idea of a mouth orgasm. Like, pleasure all over your body with only a sip. You thanked the guy and attacked your food, which seemed delicious enough. Dean watched you for awhile, a goofy grin on his face.


“You eat like a kid. Look at your mouth, all dirty.”

“You are a strange man, Winchester.”

“I’m just messing with you, Y/N. You look cute when you’re mad.”

“Come again?” You dropped the fork and stared at him. “Care to explain what happened to you? Because I don’t recall to ever see you so sweet.”

“Never mind, Y/L/N. Let’s eat and go, Sam probably had an update on the case.”

“Don’t think you’re getting away with this.”

Dean rolled his eyes and kept eating, like nothing happened. You knew it was wrong to set your hopes up and expect some sort of feelings coming from the blond, but you could not help it. Your heart began to pound on your chest and you were so breathless, even eat your favourite food was hard.

Ten minutes later, both of you finished your meal. Dean went off to pay and you babbled you needed to go the bathroom. It was empty, so you took your time to wash your face and get ready to confront him. You needed to tell him how you felt and you could not wait any longer. However, the second you were out the bathroom, you felt an acute pain on your head and passed out, not knowing exactly what had happened.

[later that day]

Slowly you gained your conscientiousness back, realising you were no longer in the small restaurant from the morning. It was a lifeless place, your whole body shivered, feeling the bad vibrations the place exhaled. It was very dark, only a flickering light allowed you to notice the grey walls and the absence of windows. You were still a bit woozy, but aware enough to comprehend you had been kidnapped. It was so you to get in that kind of trouble.

“Look, Liam, who’s already up: the Winchesters’ slut.”

“Seriously, guys? Slut? So cheap!” You scoffed, laughing. “Don’t think anybody is coming for me. Especially who you’re looking for.”

“I saw you with Dean Winchester. He’s definitely coming for you.”

“Why would he?”

“He’s in love with you, moron.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but… No. No. No. No and no.”

The men laughed.

“Should we call him or he’ll track your phone by his own?”

“Look, I know them. Don’t you think they’ll realise this is a trap?”

“We don’t want to ambush them, just have a little payback. They killed our mother.”


“Now they’ll pay for it.”

Your phone rang on your pocket and you were not able to disguise it. The dark and tall one, Liam, approached you, groping your ass whilst grabbing the loud thing. His creepy smile made you bit your lip, scared of what they might do. You had to figure out a way out, before it was too late.

Y/N, where are you? Why did you leave without telling me?”

“Your pretty lady is safe, for now, Winchester. But I suggest you come to her rescue soon, otherwise…”

You pulled the ropes, trying to free yourself. Tears started to roll down on your face, you were truly desperate. Two mockery laughs could be heard and, as they left, your fear only grew.

[moments later]

“Y/N! We need to go!” Dean burst in, gasping and bleeding.

“What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry, let’s just get you out.”

He knelt behind you, cutting you out of the tight ropes. You took a few minutes to feel your hands working again and ran to his embrace. Dean seemed to had been seriously injured. Oh, fuck no. Nobody would do that to him and walk out without consequences.

“Come on, we need to go.”

“First I have to do something.”

With his gun on your hand, you searched for your kidnappers. Sam had them lying on the floor, scared and hurt. It would be so freaking good, mess with their heads. You did not want to kill those boys, just leave them in a real bad place.

“Now, tell me, have you got what were looking for?” You shot one of them in the foot, which made both scream. “Answer me!”


“Hell no, because you don’t mess with the Winchesters.” You shot the other one in the arm. “Now remember my name, Y/N Y/L/N, and spread the word: nobody tries to kidnap me again, right?”


“Let’s go, boys.”

The three of you left that hideous building, walking straight to the beautiful 67 Impala. You gave Sam a look, which told him to leave you and Dean alone for a second.

“Now you: never, never, do that again for me.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I love you too much to see you get hurt for me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I waited too much to tell this, Dean, but I’m not holding it back any more. I love you.”

He stayed silent, his green eyes glued to yours. Slowly, his hand touched your waist, bringing you close together in a pull. Without wasting any more time, he smashed his lips onto yours. You stuck your fingers in his hair, pulling a lock and pouring yourself to the kiss. The only coherent thought in your mind was: you had never been kissed like that before and it was damn good.

“Now, do I have to say it?” Dean whispered, against your lips.

“Say what?”

“Say that I love you, big head.”

You laughed, kissing him one more time and realising that now everything seemed perfectly right in your life. Like it should always be.

no doubt

Originally posted by porkdo-bi

◇ “My special mate.”

◇ Chanyeol x reader

◇ vampire!au

◇ this gif shouldve been used for like a sugardaddy!au but oh well


“Chanyeol,” you hiss under your breath, “Calm down.”

Said vampire inhales sharply from beside you, and you don’t look up at him but you know that he’s clenching his jaw and his eyes are turning black.

“If he looks at you like that again, I’m going to pull out his tongue,” Chanyeol growls, and you shiver as you feel his hand wind around your waist possessively, rubbing circles on you through layers of clothing. “Who does he think he is?”

“A very important warlock whose decision will affect the outcome of your territory wars,” you remind him with a hushed voice, finally turning to meet the eyes of your mate. Your eyes soften as you see the frown on his face. “You have nothing to worry about, my love.”

You see his frown lessen at your sweet words, but his grip on you doesn’t falter. “He must be incredibly stupid if he’s flirting with my mate. I thought he was supposed to be a ‘very important warlock’?”

“I never said he was smart,” you joke, giggling when you see a smile blossom on his handsome face, grinning even wider when he bends his head down to place a sweeter-than-sugar kiss on your lips.

“But seriously,” you remind him softly, “If you want your land back, you’ll just have to bear him.”

“Suho seems to have that worked out already,” Chanyeol comments, seeing his brother sit down next to the warlock. From across the room, Chanyeol can hear them discussing battle tactics that wouldn’t disrupt the mortals living on the land. “Are you sure you can’t just shut him up with magic?”

You scoff, pulling out your phone to check the time. “I have to go now, so no. I wish. It’s against wizarding law for ordinary witches to perform magic against members of the Board, as well, remember?”

“Well, you certainly aren’t an ordinary witch, are you, my love?” He teases, tightening his hold on you to lift you gently onto his lap. After the first time - when you had blushed furiously at the thought of even sitting on Chanyeol’s lap in public - you had gotten used to any type of touching in public (“They know how vampires are with their mates, sweetheart. Nobody minds.”). “You’re my special witch.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, and are glad yet irritated to be distracted from the fire in your cheeks when Chanyeol’s gaze flickers to behind you, gaze hardening and black seeping into his eyes in anger. “He’s talking about you,” he says lowly, and you see a streak of gleaming white emerge from his gums. “He’s lucky you’re with me. I would’ve ripped his head right off if you weren’t.”

You frown at his words, sliding off of his lap and grabbing your bag from beside him. He was always like this, and although it could be flattering, it made you think. Did he not trust you enough to not reject any man that wasn’t him? He was your mate, the only person for you, and he should know that you wanted nobody but him.

“I’ll walk you out,” Chanyeol says, standing abruptly as you start to gather your coat. “It’s not safe this late at night.”

You stiffen at his words, turning to him with a fake smile that has him raising his eyebrows. “I’m only going outside so that I can apparate home,” you murmur. “Not unless you doubt the safety of your home?”

Chanyeol is left speechless, and it allows you to turn on your heel and stride out of the quiet bar, nodding to a few familiar faces. You know that Chanyeol wants to run after you - as he almost always does - but he also knows that talking to you straight after an outburst was one of the worst things he could do. So he lets you leave, frowning at the sight of you upset but knowing you didn’t want to talk at the moment.


When you get home to the EXO mansion, you go straight to sleep. You don’t bother staying up and waiting for Chanyeol, because you have somewhere to be tomorrow and you need your sleep. You drift off to dreamland near midnight, wishing for sleep but unable to fall quickly because your mate wasn’t by your side.

You’re awakened a few hours later by the sound of shouting. Frowning, you take a look at the digital clock that illuminates your room softly with green, seeing the numbers 3:oo on the screen. You listen, for a second; the shouting is coming from outside. You shuffle out of your bed groggily, glad for once that your bedroom faced the front of the house, and peered out of the window.

You gasp at the sight outside; two men - Suho and Chanyeol - growling furiously at each other, while their 7 other brothers looked on, stuck between putting an end to the fighting or letting it continue.

You wrap a robe around you quickly, pulling on a pair of slip on shoes and scampering downstairs at full speed. The maids are asleep, by now, so nobody prevents you from interfering in the fight outside. Pushing open the huge door, you stride outside, eyes set on the yelling men.

It’s only as you get closer do you realize two things; Chanyeol is bloodied up badly, but it doesn’t take away from the fury he resonates; and they’re shouting about you.

“What is going on?” You ask loudly, making sure the purple in your eyes is brighter than usual so that they can see how angry you are. “You come back at 3AM covered in blood and about to tear each other’s heads off?”

“Chanyeol decided to attack Lorenzo,” Suho says through gritted teeth, eyes a pitch black and fists clenched tightly. “You’re lucky you didn’t kill him, or else our alliance with the wizards would be completely destroyed!”

At the mention of the same wizard that had been looking at you and talking about you earlier, you stiffen. Furrowing your eyebrows, you finally turn to Chanyeol. He’s already looking at you, as if he knows how irritated and disappointed you are, and you see his eyes return to normal and his fangs retract into his gums at the look on your face.

“Follow me inside,” you mutter stiffly, nodding a goodnight to the rest of EXO, who watch as you storm inside, Chanyeol on your heels.

The atmosphere is stifling, but your bedroom feels colder than usual as you wash the blood off of Chanyeol, not saying anything. You know he wants to speak, to justify his actions by the way he clutches your arms in his grasp as you wipe blood off of his lip, rubbing circles on your skin.

“Do you not trust me?” You question suddenly, feeling tears prick at your eyes despite the strong facade you had put on. You feel Chanyeol’s head shoot up and he stares at you in confusion.


Do you not trust me?” You repeat in exasperation, throwing down the tissue onto the bathroom counter angrily. “Is that why you keep doing this? W-why don’t you understand that I don’t want anybody but you?”

“You don’t understand,” Chanyeol argues, standing from where he was leaning against the bathroom sink. He towers over you, but you don’t feel scared - you never have. You just feel angry.

“Exactly!” You cry, folding your arms, “I don’t understand, because I never worry that someone is going to take you away from me because I have faith that you love me-!”

“I’m selfish, ____!” Chanyeol yells, startling you. It’s the first time he had directed his anger at you. “I’m selfish, and I want to keep you to myself. There. That’s the truth. I trust you with my life, but I don’t trust any other witch, warlock, werewolf, faerie or vampire with you.

“That’s who I am,” he exhales deeply, eyebrows furrowing. “And I’m sorry that you got stuck with me.”

Your breath is stuck in your throat and your voice is clogged with tears. “No, no… Chan…” You shake your head, trying to meet eyes with him, but he only avoided your gaze. “That’s - that’s not what I meant…”

There’s a pregnant pause in which tears flow down your cheeks and Chanyeol stares at the ground, jaw clenched and tears welling in his own eyes. You’ve never seen your mate look so defeated - he was normally confident, happy and flirty and this wasn’t who you were used to seeing. You lunge forward seconds later, wrapping your arms around his broad chest and burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Why would you think that?” You demand sadly, sniffling and reveling in the feeling of his arms wrapping around you, his head slowly bending to rest on top of yours. “My love, I’m completely thankful to the universe for letting me be your mate, and I always will be.”

“You’re too perfect for me,” Chanyeol whispers, “But I’m so selfish, I won’t let you go.”

“What did you tell me when we first met?” You ask strongly, lifting your head from his chest. “’Vampire mates are for life’- or did you forget? Even if you did let me go, I would always find my way back to you.”

“How did I manage to find you?” Chanyeol whispers lovingly, cupping your face gently and smiling as he sees your eyes screw shut at his touch. “My special witch.”

“My special mate,” you say back softly, standing on the tips of your toes to connect your lips in a passionate embrace that has your head reeling. Never again did either of you doubt each other’s trust or love.


Disclaimer: GIF does not belong to alecvolturitrash, the picture prompt and writing do.

Requested by anonymous:  Could I request an imagine where: you’re Alec’s mate and he’s trying to teach you Italian? The reader could be fumbling over her words and getting frustrated and he could just be holding in laughter over their mistakes? Just a lot of fluffy stuff? Thank you so much! 💕

“You know I still don’t know Italian,” you mentioned as you walked hand in hand with your mate, Alec. He had brought you on yet another beautiful date: champagne under the stars in the Tuscan countryside. He always chose the most romantic things to do, as well as using terms of endearment in Italian. At least, you hoped they were endearment.

Keep reading


Rebekah x Fem!Reader

Party Outfit Idea

Requested By Anon

Warnings: Mentions of Klaus killing a witch

Breakfast was awkward. Your girlfriend and your best friend exchanging and rebuffing fake pleasantries as you ate. It was like watching a match of tennis, Klaus would say something to you and Rebekah would deal a back hand of a snide comment, Klaus would quickly retort with something snippy and the cycle would repeat.


“What do you think about the party Marcel’s throwing?” Klaus asked you with a smirk.

“Well…” You went to respond.

“That’s an excellent Nik invite my girlfriend to a vampire party.” Rebekah sighed with a disapproving look to her brother.


“She was my friend first.” Klaus hummed, knowing it always bother Rebekah.

“What were you doing hanging around a high school Nik?” Rebekah asked with a smirk.

“I was looking for a witch who wasn’t in school that day.” Klaus responded quickly. “But (Y/N) very helpfully told me how to get hold of her.”

“I didn’t, I said she lived in town.” You said suddenly interrupting the conversation.

“I know; my nasty big brother stole your best friend.” Rebekah hummed as she kissed your cheek.

“She deserved it.” Klaus muttered coldly.

“Can we go to Marcel’s party?” You asked hopefully.

Keep reading

“Don’t Wait Up” (B.I x Reader)

“Please Hanbin scenario, where he came home and finds his gf asleep on the couch with his hoodie on ( she was waiting for him )? Thanks in advance ^^ btw I really love your works!”

Name: “Don’t Wait Up”

Character: B.I // Kim Hanbin (iKON)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 692

Originally posted by ohitsdoubleb

(gif credit to the original owner)

You couldn’t help but beam at the caring words that were cooed through the phone. “(Y/N) you don’t have to wait for me, it’ll be late,” Hanbin said. His tone wasn’t harsh, but he definitely sounded almost like a worrying mother. “I’ll be fine, I promise!” you drawled. A feint chuckle could be heard from the other end. “I just miss you, okay?” you sighed. The pit of your stomach grew as it swallowed your heart. Hanbin works so hard every day, writing and producing. He loved his work and you wanted nothing more than for him to enjoy making music. You just missed the very bones of him. “I am sorry jagi, I miss you too. On my day off, I swear I will make it up to you,” he replied. Hints of sadness and guilt laced his every word as all you could hear was the voice of the man you loved. “I love you, (Y/N),” he added. His was quiet yet it was the one voice that soothed your every qualm and the only voice you could ever love so deeply. “I love you too, Hanbin.” After a reluctant goodbye, a newly found silence signalled the end of the call. You fell back onto your bed. The fresh scent of the covers almost comforted you. Of course, against his best wishes, you were going to wait for him. You hopped off of from the bed, lunging for the wardrobe. The wardrobe doors hung slightly ajar, almost as if it enticed you. The amount of rummaging was cut off when you found his shirt. A smirk crept on your face and you quickly slipped on the garment. The familiar warmth immediately swept over you, his being and scent being easily recognisable. At least you didn’t miss him so much now.

Keep reading

Getting Caught - Liam Dunbar Imagine

Prompt: Could write a Teen Wolf imagine where the reader is Stiles’ or Scott’s younger sister and she’s dating Liam, and they catch them making out? Please and thank you so much!!

GIF Credit: imaginexteenwolf 

My Teen Wolf Master List

Family movie night in the Stilinski household was a must weekly thing. It’s something the Sheriff decided to do to bond with his kids after his wife passed away. The agreement was movie night once night a week, preferably a night when the Sheriff was off, wouldn’t interfere with Stiles’ lacrosse games, and Y/N’s orchestra commitments; as well as no inviting a friend over. Movie night was strictly for the three of them only.

Y/N loved movie nights with her dad and older brother, except for tonight she/d rather be with Liam, especially considering how well things were going between the two of them. There was an instant connection the moment Stiles introduced his baby sister to Liam one day after lacrosse practice. Since then, the two have been sneaking around over the last two months to see each other In janitor closets and the locker rooms during school hours, and of course in bedrooms in empty houses. The two were so into each other; they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and the excitement of sneaking around made their relationship more fun.

It was Stiles’ turn to pick a movie for the night and of course he picked Star Wars; Y/N’s least favorite movie in the world. She tried so hard to focus on the movie but it was hard to enjoy it with Liam on her mind. Picturing his breathtaking blue eyes, his cute baby face, picture perfect smile and his full lips.

At that moment her phone buzzed with a new text message from Liam. 

I hope you don’t mind but I snuck out of my house just to see you. Go to your room ;)

She tried not to smile. Instead she faked a cough followed by a fake sneeze. “Dad, I’m not feeling so good. Can I be excused? I’d like to go to bed.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Take something before you go to bed, okay?” 

She nodded and said good night. She fought so hard not to run up the stairs or climb them two steps at a time, but when she finally got to her room she quickly opened the door. She leaned her back against the door after closing it and looked at Liam who was sitting on her bed. A warm breeze came from the open window Liam came through.

Keep reading

Betrayed- A Sehun Angst

HONEY, BABE I need angst (and I only trust you to write it cause *winks* you’re my favorite writer) can you pretty please write something where Sehun is your boyfriend and you catch him in bed with you your friend, make me cry! LOVE YOU

Part 2

You smiled, as you got off from work early, and stared at your phone, observing the background picture of you and Sehun smiling, with ice creams in your hands, on one of your last dates. You debated whether you should call him or not, but decided not to, since you wanted to surprise him.

You missed Sehun, he had been so busy at work, with the new comeback, and the recording, and the choreographies, you had barely had time to spend together lately. He came back home late, completely exhausted, if he ever came back at all, and you never had the heart to ask him to do things with you, knowing he deserved the little rest he could get.

But now that he had a free day, and you could go home early, you wanted to spend some quality time together as a couple, and quite possibly get intimate. Your body tingled with just the thought of his precious skin on yours.

Just as you were making your way to the store to buy some ingredients to prepare Sehun’s favorite meal, and some of his favorite snacks, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out, and saw a text from D.O. you smiled, opening the tab, and laughing as you saw the derpy selfie he had sent you, with the caption “I finally have a free day, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

You quickly stretched your arms forward, and snapped an equally embarrassing picture of yourself, adding the caption of “You could rest. Or learn to cook something nice for me.” And sent it.

D.O was your best friend in the group. You met through Sehun, once he decided you were serious enough to be introduced to friends, and you instantly hit it off. You both had similar personalities, and you loved how whenever you were around D.O would do his best to prepare nice meals for you. You really did appreciate him, especially since he was always there to listen to you when you were down, and to comfort you and pick you up when you were breaking.

You paid everything at the till, and shoved the groceries in your car. You started the engine, and drove to your shared apartment with Sehun. You were beginning to grow excited. You might have sped a little, but always within safe limits, and as you approached your apartment complex, you felt yourself practically bouncing on your seat.

You started running through all of the possible options in your head, you could cuddle and watch movies, you could eat together, you could make love again, you could just joke around, you could talk, oh God how you missed talking to Sehun, although he had always been one to listen more than talk.

You parked, and went up to your floor with the elevator, your hands playing nervously with each other. You reached your door, and pulled your keys out, opening the door quietly, just in case Sehun had decided to take a nap.

The house was awfully quiet, and for some reason, you had begun to feel uneasy. There was something definitely off here.

You walked through your apartment, and just as you opened the door to your room, you felt your heart rip out of your chest, roll down your body, and smash into a million pieces at your feet.

There he was, the love of your life, the man you had given 3 long years of your life to, the man you had fought for, dealt with insults, hate, and crazy fans for, just for his love, completely naked, with his body hovering over none over than your best friend. Your BEST friend. You almost laughed at the word.

You had done everything for her, you had lent her money when she was running low on cash, and never even asked for it back, you had driven to clubs at 5 am on a work day, to rescue her from her drunken state, you had saved her ass multiple times, and helped her get over her ex. And now she was fucking your boyfriend.

You felt bitter, salty, painful tears roll down your cheeks, as you stared at them in horror, and the worst part was, you felt as though you were interrupting something you shouldn’t have.

“Y/N! I thought you were at work…” Sehun exclaimed, as he rolled off your friend, and covered himself with the sheets. You shook your head, but your eyes were still fixated on your friend. You couldn’t believe she had betrayed me like that.

“I got allowed to go home early. I thought… I thought… I thought we could spend the day together. I bought… I bought stuff to make your favorite meal. I wanted us to watch movies and cuddle… But I guess you have better things to do, so I’ll just go.” You managed to stutter out, and although you fought your hardest to keep a straight face, the tears dripping from your chin gave away all the pain you felt inside.

For a second, you thought you saw guilt and regret cross Sehun’s face, but it could just be your heart misleading you again. Clearly it didn’t know to recognize when someone had already stopped caring about you.

“No, don’t go.” Sehun called out, as he stood up, sliding his underwear up his legs. You saw your best friend throw a tshirt on. You snorted.

“No, it’s okay. Really, I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll leave the ingredients on the kitchen counter, you can fix yourselves something to eat when you are done.” You told him, as you began walking away towards the front door. Sehun stopped you.

“Aren’t you going to shout at me? Get mad? Scream? Break up with me? Or ask me to redeem myself somehow?” Sehun asked, his eyes burning with guilt, as his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. You smiled at him, a sad smile that broke his heart into pieces, as you pulled his hand away from you gently.

“Sehun… What would be the point? You already broke me beyond repair. There is nothing left for me to say. I wasn’t good enough. Perhaps it’s my fault. Perhaps you are just a cheater. But in the end, the deed is done, and you betrayed me. There is no redeeming, there is no chance to make this better, but I forgive you. You should have told me you didn’t love me. I would have moved out of your way before you could break me like this. It would have saved me the humiliation… I wish you well Sehun. I hope you are happy.” You told him sincerely, with a broken smile, as you begin to open the door.

“Wait! Where are you going?” he asked you, trying to close the door in front of you again. You scoffed, he was acting stupidly for someone who had just betrayed you in the worst way possible with your best friend. He had no right.

“Well, that shouldn’t matter to you, since we are no longer together. But I’m moving out. I’ll have someone pick up my stuff tomorrow.” You told him, your eyes turning to a cold stare, as you glare at his hand on the door.

“Who are you staying with?” Sehun asked again, this time his tone becoming harsher.

“Don’t pretend to care now when you had no trouble getting her into our bed Sehun… I’m sorry but I don’t want to see you ever again. Just let me go, and be happy with your choice. I hope you have a happy life. Goodbye Sehun.” You told him, with a deep sigh, before opening the door and walking out, not looking behind.

You held your composure, until you reached your car, and you started hitting the steering wheel viciously, screaming as tears blurred your sight. You grabbed your phone and dialed the number of the only person you wanted to see right now.

“D.O? I need you… Please I need you…” You cried into your phone. You heard him take in a sharp pain, and mumble to Kai beside him, telling him to leave.

“Okay, come over, I’ll make a hot chocolate. Just walk straight in, the door will be unlocked.” You heard D.O tell you, as he stood up from the couch, and walked towards the kitchen. You agreed, and began driving, to the only person who could prevent you from doing something stupid right now.

EXO react to catching their girlfriend cheating

Wow, that’s heavy. Honestly, all of them would feel betrayed in some way. But, in different ways that I’ll elaborate on. 

*Gif do not belong to me. Credit where it’s due

Xiumin: He’s in sheer incredulity over these abhorrent pictures Luhan sent him that show his girlfriend in a lustful kiss with another man whom he has no familiarity with. Initially, Xiumin would be so displeased, that the words would be drained from him. He would give his girlfriend the silent treatment as a way to sort his disarrayed thoughts from the whole realization. If his girlfriend attempted to make conversation with him, he would just sigh while shaking his head in a discontent fashion before removing himself from the room to be alone. Although Minseok is relatively angered by this revelation, I see him as someone who believes in second chances. With that in mind, the following day, he would approach her wearily, with a leery glaze in his eyes as he addresses her curtly: “you don’t have to explain yourself, I know everything. But, I’m willing to work things out with you. But only if you’re willing.” 

Originally posted by mercuryica

Luhan: “What?! There’s no way she could…” Luhan would murmur with immense despondency upon noticing his girlfriend’s phone vibrating erratically, the messages all coming from someone who’s contact name is “my love <3.” Clearly not referring to him. All the messages are comprised of saccharine words, yet it’s all a wretched liaison. The confusion, then the heartache, and finally the induration would all assail poor Luhan at once. When his girlfriend sees him holding her phone, she would beg him to allow her to explain, only for him to murmur with vehemence “I trusted you,” before leaving the house in an emotional torrent. He would need some time away from his girlfriend before talking with her about it. Now, unlike Minseok, I’m not sure Luhan would be as forgiving. After a couple of days of being separated from her, depending on how serious the relationship is, he may forgive her, however, his trust in her would decline immensely or he’ll end up detaching himself from her. 

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

Kris: Absolutely enraged upon catching another man’s clothing in the bedroom along with his girlfriend’s, he would not hesitate to question her, trying his best to maintain a level headed disposition. With her lackluster response, Kris would be in a fit of emotions over what is lamentably transpiring. He would need to be alone in the room to truly gather his composure and weigh the situation properly. “I’ve given you so much baobei, and this is what you do to me? Why would you even–you know what, I don’t need to know. Please, I need to think about everything.” And with that, he would dismiss her, allowing him sometime to allow all the bitter poignancy to flow. He would reminisce of all the fun times they’ve shared together, wondering how it all meant nothing to her. I feel like Kris would forgive his girlfriend despite the damage she’s brought upon the relationship, however, I can also see him going as far as threatening the other man involved in this affair, asserting to him how he’d “better not see him with his girl ever again.” 

Originally posted by manly-bambi

Suho: Very level headed throughout this whole ordeal, initially, the moment he discovers his girlfriend strolling through the park with another man, holding hands he would be more so befuddled than angry. Once he brings it up to her, he would eye her carefully, trying his best not to allow his emotions to manifest in front of her. With the way she fails to formulate a proper explanation over the incident, Suho would sigh heavy hearted. With a hand upon his face wistfully, no words would need to be exchanged between him and his girlfriend to indicate that he wishes to be alone. After a day or so of being distant with her, Suho would eventually find it in his heart to forgive her, approaching her with a pang of dejection. “I don’t know why it’s come to this…but, I still want to make things right with you jagi..” Seeking an embrace of forgiveness from her, Joonmyun would gladly accept any apologies that his girlfriend offers him. He will be very watchful of her and the people she hangs around in the future, wanting to know where she is going and who she is going with. 

Originally posted by ohhsenshine

Lay: Easily, Yixing would be the most understanding and gentle member of all in this scenario. It wouldn’t even be a debate whether he should forgive her or not. However, despite Lay being able to forgive his girlfriend relativity quick, it would take some time for his heart to ameliorate fully from the initial hurt. Despite him catching his girlfriend in the act of an affair at the nearby cafe that he loves to take her to, Yixing still chooses to see the good in people. He would recall back to all the times in which he and his girlfriend had convivial times like at the local hot spring or at their favorite library. So, he knows she’s not malevolent by nature, and that would be all that Yixing would need to forgive her. In fact, he wouldn’t even look at her or their relationship much differently; this would merely be a mistake in his eyes. But, he would be deeply afflicted by the heartache. “It hurts baobei….it really does. But, my feelings for you are stronger than any pain.”

Originally posted by getlayd

Baekhyun: Highly irate upon catching glimpse of a racy text message accompanied by an equally scandalous photo from some other man on his girlfriend’s phone, Baekhyun would charge into their room with a torrent of emotions encompassing him. “How could you do this to me?!” he would holler aloud at his girlfriend while presenting her phone to her with the abominable photo on display. She wouldn’t even need to give him an explanation, as the evidence is already piled against her. “After all I’ve done with you….” Baek would mutter indignantly under his breath while his girlfriend beseeches forgiveness from him. With vehemence, he would leave the room and basically the house and go far. Far, far away he would travel to sort his thoughts together. At this point, even the mere thought of his girlfriend would do Baekhyun no good aside from bringing him to an infuriated state. Depending on how serious the relationship is, Baek may end up severing his ties with her, as she has let him down lamentably. 

Originally posted by exoturnback

Chen: Jongdae would be highly galled the moment he catches notice of his girlfriend being dropped off back home by some unidentifiable guy who permits her a swift kiss. He feels most betrayed and let down by his girlfriend, but Chen wouldn’t let his emotions materializes completely when approaching her. He would approach with immense solemnity, as this would get the point across best. “You messed up. Really bad,” he would state simply, before taking his qualms elsewhere. Similar to Baek, he would go far away to sort his mind out. He isn’t going anywhere in particular, just the businesses of the city should suffice in clearing his mind from his girlfriend’s deplorable actions. It would take Jongdae an ample amount of time to come to a definitive answer as to what the state of his relationship is at. I think for Jongdae, it would be especially hard for him to look at his girlfriend in the same light. He may just settle to have an off and on relationship with his girlfriend. Similar to Lay and Suho, he can still draw some favorable aspects of her despite his views being slightly altered.

Originally posted by yahbrahchill

Chanyeol: The realization wouldn’t come to Chanyeol instantly upon receiving warning from Sehun that he caught sight of his girlfriend wandering around the local mall with some other guy. Chanyeol would think, or rather wants to think, that perhaps this guy hanging around his girl is a friend of hers? Maybe a relative? He doesn’t want to come to terms over what is unfortunately the callous reality. Cautiously, with a anxious expression, he would approach his girlfriend on the matter, nearly incoherent when asking. “Babe…I just….there’s something I need to know? You were with….with–wait no. Why were you with some guy at the mall?” And finally, while his girlfriend searches for an explanation pitifully, the choler would overtake him wholly. He would eye her with a perturbing ire she’s not completely accustomed to as he excuses himself from the room to be alone. He wouldn’t say a word….he wouldn’t even want to hear her side of the story. Eventually, he will have left the house as an indication that he is terminating his ties with her. 

Originally posted by krismehard

D.O: Though he’s hurt, I think Kyungsoo would feel mostly disappointment rather than anger or dolor. He would be the most rational member in this situation. Kyungsoo would want to hear his girlfriend’s explanation on the matter ever since he caught her on the phone with someone she addresses as “baby” and “love.” “I want to know everything. How long have you been seeing this other person, why you decided to be disloyal towards me…did you not think this was going to put our relationship on the line?” Kyungsoo would question his girlfriend as she sobs for clemency. He would listen carefully to her reasons, weighing each answer thoughtfully and how “reasonable’ they are and whether they are worth his condonation. It would take him a few days to come to his decision of staying with her. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt jagi. But I need a commitment from you as well.” If she repeats her mistakes again, Kyungsoo would not hesitate in ending the relationship at that point. 

Originally posted by missdyoo

Tao: He would showcase the most emotions in this scenario of all the members. Tao would not wait to get a chance to talk to his girlfriend after catching her in their car with some other man, in the midst of an impassioned kiss. “I can’t believe you!” he would bellow stridently at his girlfriend the moment she walks in through the door. “You cheated on me!” he would exclaim now completely submerged in a profusion of emotions. He wouldn’t even listen to her explanations or “sorry’s,” as he’s too overwhelmed with a mixture of anguish and outrage. Through his tears of irascibility, Tao would eventually excuse himself from the room; the sight of his girlfriend is giving him too much grief. “You betrayed me. I can’t believe you!” storming to his room, he would lock himself in, snuggling himself up to Candy while allowing his heartache to flow. It wouldn’t take more than a day for Tao to approach his girlfriend, letting her know he’s leaving. “I just can’t anymore…” he would lament to himself. 

Originally posted by huangzts

Kai: Emotionally perturbed by the images of the various text messages his girlfriend has been exchanging with someone else, Jongin wouldn’t be able to bring the matter up to her until a few days after the discovery. His expression would be grave when addressing his girlfriend on the issue. He wants to believe that this isn’t happening and that those messages were merely a coincidence of some sort, but deep inside, Jongin knows that that is far from the case. “Baby…is it true….you’re really s-seeing someone else?” he would ask carefully, dreading to hear her answer. With her confirmation, Kai would lower his gaze, his dejection lucid. “Oh…I see…” he would murmur sadly, leaving the room to have some time for himself. He would trap himself in what was once “their” bedroom, covered in blankets with every light turned off–the only source of luminescence coming from the T.V. He would remain in this state for days. With his subsiding melancholy, Kai would approach his girlfriend calmly with confirmation of his separation from her: “I don’t think this is going to work out….but, just know that I’ve enjoyed our time together.” 

Originally posted by kairora

Sehun: Sehun would be highly infuriated at catching some other man with his hands around his girlfriend’s waist affectionately while at the local shopping center. Once his girlfriend returns from her affair, she would come home to the sight of Sehun already packed for departure, the thought of forgiveness completely null. “Oh these? Yeah, I have no reason to stick around with you anymore, so I’m leaving. But don’t worry. You won’t be alone since you have your little side guy to hang around,” he would utter bitingly, departing without another word. Although it would seem Sehun would have moved on quickly, this actually may haunt him for the next few weeks. His girlfriend cheated on him; she felt the need to suffice her needs with some other man. He would start questioning himself: ‘am I not good enough?’ ‘did I not do enough?’ ‘could I have been better?’ ‘what’s wrong with me?’ This whole ordeal would ultimately disturb Sehun in his mind. He’s already wiped any proof of his relationship with her wholly, so there’s no going back. He may end up dealing with his anxieties through heavy drinking as a means to dull the heartache. 

Originally posted by kai-tastrophe


See you again

pairing: michael x reader

word count: 2,769


michaels in hiding like he usually is during breaks so in turn i write more about him idk how my mind works that way but oh well whatever

so in drivers ed there are so many sad videos about drunk driving n shit like that and thats where i found inspiration for this.. its super sad hence the most depressing and heart wrenching gif of michael clifford to ever exist

You crouched down to Matty’s eye level, taking his hands in yours and disregarding the slight discomfort that filled your abdomen. You marked it as the guilt from leaving your child angry with you for a night. “You’re going to have a super fun night with Grace, bud. It’s just a couple of hours.”

Your son nodded, instinctively wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you tightly. You hugged him back, closing your eyes and sighing deeply. “I love you Mommy.” He said. “Don’t be gone too long.”

“I won’t, Matty. Besides, you love Grace! I bet if you’re good all night she’ll take you out for ice cream.” You coaxed, him immediately releasing your neck and looking at you with excited eyes.

He looked up to his nanny, smiling widely. “Can we get ice cream, Grace? Can we?”

“Of course, Matt.” Grace laughed, amused with how excited he had gotten from being annoyed with you choosing to spend tonight at one of Michael’s shows. You hadn’t seen he perform in what seemed like years (and it had been years since you have been so busy raising Matty, and a loud concert late at night wasn’t the kind of environment you wanted for your 4 year old).

You kissed Matty’s forehead, hugging him one last time. “I’ll be back before you know it. Do I ever break my promises?” Matty shook his head. “Exactly. I love you very much.”

“I love you more, Mommy.” He said, kissing your cheek. “Tell Daddy I love him too.”

“I will.”

You watched as Matty was seated in the back of Grace’s car, and after making sure he was safe, you waved to the car as it drove away from the back of the arena, watching Matty wave back. 

You spent your time backstage, making sure not to be in anyone’s way and chatting with a few members of the crew when you could. Up until performance time, you didn’t see Michael at all. But he was busy; there was no way he could just drop everything and come spend time with you when he’s touring. You didn’t mind at all, because you saw him right before he went on and you were the first person he saw when he got offstage, mainly because you watch right from there. He would occasionally glance over at you, involuntarily smiling as he would sing to you. And you couldn’t help but smile back, watching him bounce around onstage as happy as he is. 

While you were grabbing yourself some water from the green room, you felt two arms hug you from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“Hi Angel.” Michael greeted, turning you around so you faced him.

You smiled up at him, pecking his lips. “You excited for tonight?”

“When am I never excited?” He quizzed, releasing you and grabbing the water out of your hands.

You felt your phone ring in your back pocket, and pulling it out, you saw Grace texted you.

Grace: Matty saw a guy with purple hair playing guitar and thought it was Michael. He asked why he wasn’t onstage like he was supposed to be and the man just laughed, saying he wishes he was Michael. The guy then proceeded to play Matty’s favorite song of Michael’s, Airplanes. Must’ve been a fan. Needless to say, Matty was very happy

Attached was a picture of your son high-fiving the other purple haired twenty-something with a guitar in his lap. On his face he wore a bright smile, looking up at the guy who smiled just as brightly back at the enthusiastic toddler.

Grace sent another text.

Grace: Oh, and Matty says he loves and misses you guys. Especially Michael

The texts brought a smile to your face. “Someone loves their daddy a lot.” You told Michael, holding out your phone to show him the texts.

“Oh, for a second there I thought you were talking about yourself.” He teased, sticking his tongue out before reading the screen, smiling from it. “How fucking cute is he.”

“The cutest.” You cooed, resting your head on Michael’s shoulder.

“C’mon, Mike. We’re on in 5.” Calum said, sticking his head into the room. He was gone as quick as he came.

You two hurried backstage where Michael was handed his guitar. You stood off, waiting for him to get his ear piece all situated, and once he was, he returned to you. He cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours. You savored every second of it, before he pulled away and said, “I love you, Angel.”

“I love you too, Mikey. I’ll be right here the entire time.”

“Just like always.” He said, his left eye falling into a sly wink before turning back to his friends and running out onstage with them.

Michael’s small hand encapsulated yours, his thumb skimming over your white knuckles as he recounted your last conversation. All he could do was hold your hand, knowing that no amount of hugs or encouragement or love could change what happened just hours ago. His eyes traveled from your connecting hands up your arm, right up to your collarbones to your face. To him you were the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth, an angel in disguise when the two of you met. 

He loved to watch you sleep, especially. How your eyes were gently closed, and how peaceful you looked lying next to him, or like many times, in his arms. He couldn’t remember a time where you didn’t look absolutely gorgeous.

But now, here you laid in this small hospital bed not big enough for the both of you, and although you looked asleep–as peaceful as you could be–Michael knew the story behind those closed eyes was something much more haunting than just a calm slumber.

His heart ached as memories flooded his mind; he remembered every second which landed you in a hospital bed.

Michael screwed his eyes shut as he sang, using every ounce of energy to hit the rights notes to create a beautiful harmony during your favorite song, Outer Space. He wanted to impress you with every performance, so he put all his heart into singing it, always delivering a promising performance you would find posted to every social media platformed (many fans tagging you in them since they know of your deep love for the song) and always commend Michael on how wonderful he did. He would always smile.

“The darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side…” Michael sang, looking back to where you usually stood, and he was prepared to see you smile and wave at him as he would serenade you.

But that’s not what he saw.

Instead, the backstage area you usually occupied, where other crew members would loiter amid, performing their duties to deliver a smooth show, was now empty. 

Immediately, his voice trailed off and he dropped his guitar–not caring about the crowd he was leaving mid-song–and hurried offstage to find you. His chest began to fill with worry, because he knew what had happened the last time something like this occurred.

There’s only been one scenario where you hadn’t been right in your spot, watching from backstage, and that was when you had passed out. You were feeling lightheaded all day, and the amount of water you drank didn’t help with the dizziness. Followed by the numbness in your hands and face, you had fainted, many crew members rushing to tend to you and the concert being delayed half an hour due to Michael running offstage to make sure his fiancé was alright. 

After you had regained consciousness and assured him he was fine, he went back to finish the show, but first thing the next day, he made you go to the doctor. It was then you were diagnosed anemic, and after blood tests and different medications and changes in diet, you were perfectly healthy. Everything had returned back to normal.

This time, though, Michael had worries that it was something worse than just passing out from your anemia. Which is why he didn’t care about the fans he was leaving in that moment; all he cared about was knowing that you were safe.

“Where is she, where is she, where is she!” He yelled, running through the corridors and looking for some type of answers in the crew standing by, all of which bore concerned faces. The sight of their expressions made him sick to his stomach.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” Ashton called out to him, running up behind him along Luke and Calum.

Michael paid no attention to them, the only thing he was thinking was is my Angel okay? He walked into a room in the far back of the arena where a crowd of people was standing, one standing by and talking on the phone in a hurried tone.

Michael barged through the crew to see you lying on the floor in Zoe’s arms, your mouth hung open and your eyes hanging closed. He dropped to his knees and took you in his arms, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Angel, come on. Wake up,.” He spoke softly, pushing the hair out of your face.

Minutes later, which all went by in a blur to Michael, and he was in the back of an ambulance, you lying on the bed in front of him and another doctor inserting  different needles into your veins in your arms. He didn’t understand what was happening–nobody did–but nearly an hour later, a doctor came out of her room, a somber expression on his face as he pronounced you dead, due to kidney failure.

The doctor suspected that over the past couple of days you had been experiencing slight symptoms of the condition, but had just brushed them off as nerves or anxiety, or even thought it was just your anemia acting up. Going hand in hand with you being anemic was the high blood pressure, which usually didn’t affect you since you’ve had it all your life, you just assumed your body had grown used to it and you were perfectly fine. The reality of it, though, was that those two key components led to where you were today, and Michael blamed himself.

He blamed himself for not paying attention to you, and he began to think if he ever ignored your complaining about you not feeling well, and regretted not being there for you more. But when he found himself blaming himself, he immediately felt terrible for pitying himself when you were lying before him.

He thought about himself before mourning over you, and when he finally realized it after 10 minutes of blaming himself, his entire world came crashing down.

Now, hours later, and the tears had dried on his face, the endless clock continued to tick on the wall in front of him, and all he could do was hold your hand. 

“Please tell me this is just a bad dream.” He said aloud, after being silent for a while, just studying your appearance. “Just let this one be like the others. Where I’ll wake up and see you lying next to me, safe and sound and so beautifully alive. And I’ll know everything is okay because I still have you.”

He brought his free hand up to wipe his cheeks, attempting to rid his skin of the tears, but his attempts were useless. Another wave of sadness overcame him, and he broke down in loud sobs over your body. “Why couldn’t I have just paid more attention and made sure you were okay? Then none of this would’ve ever happened.” He thought out loud, rocking back on his feet and standing up, covering his eyes with his hands and shaking his head, walking to the other side of the room, staring at the blinds covering the window. He looked back at you, and whimpered. 

“Oh, Angel…” he said, walking back to you and sinking to his knees again, grabbing your hand once more and pressing gentle kisses to your cold flesh. It sent a shiver down his spine.


He looked over to see Matty standing in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot and his thumb in his mouth. Michael looked at his son, and sniffled. The child stood there, staring at his mom, before looking to his dad. “Mommy’s not coming back.” He stated.

Michael nodded his head, biting his bottom lip. “No, Mommy isn’t coming back, bud.” He confirmed, just above a whisper.

Right when you were taken to the hospital, Grace received a call from Calum, saying she needed to bring Matty to the hospital immediately because you were in an accident. And when Matty got here, he saw you being wheeled into a room, your lifeless arm hanging off of the stretcher. His face immediately drained of all color before he looked up at Grace and asked what was wrong. Michael overheard, and briefly explained to him how you were sick, and that you went to Heaven. Matty didn’t exactly understand, and Michael didn’t have the strength to explain everything to him–especially at that time. So Grace chimed in, offering to ease the burden on Michael and tell Matty what she was told when her Aunt died in a car crash when she was no older than Matty.

Matty remained in the threshold of the door, only removing his thumb from his mouth to ask Michael something. “Mommy’s not coming back…but you’re gonna be here, right?”

“Of course I am, Matty.” He said, shifting his body to face his son entirely.

“That’s what Mommy said, though.” Matty said, his voice starting to shake. “She said she would see me after your show. She said she would be back.” 

Michael sighed. “Sometimes things happen we can’t control. But you will see her again, that’s for sure.”

“I will?” He asked, a glint of hope flashing in his sparkling eyes. 

“One day all of us will see her again. She’s in Heaven now, and one day I’m going to be with her and then one day you’ll be with us.”

“And we’ll be all together.” Matty finished, and Michael nodded.

“We’ll all be together again.” He said. “But that’s not going to happen anytime soon, I can promise you that. For now, though, it’s me and you, bud. I hope you’re okay with that.”

Matty didn’t answer immediately; instead, he came charging towards his father, throwing himself into Michael’s arms and holding onto him as if his life depended on it. And Michael held him, like he would never let go. 

“Why do you call Mommy ‘Angel’ all the time?” He asked.

Michael shrugged, patting the back of his son’s head lightly. “Because Angels are people that are put on this earth to make people’s lives better. Mommy made my life so much better, and she was an angel to me. Now that she’s in Heaven, she’s a real angel looking down on us.”

Matty was silent for a moment, the only noise he would make was the occasional hiccup from crying. “I miss Mommy.” He cried, his small voice shaking as he looked up to his mom lying still on the bed. Seeing her this close frightened him a bit; usually she’s full of life and smiling and being so happy, but this time, all she looked like was asleep.

So beautifully asleep.

“I miss her too, Matty.” Michael said, rubbing the back of Matty’s head in attempts to comfort him. He hugged his son tighter. “But we gotta be strong for Mommy, can you do that? Until we see her again.”

Matty nodded, looking at his dad. “I’ll be strong for Mommy. She’ll be proud of me.”

“Yes, she’ll always be proud of you, bud.” Michael told him, kissing his cheek lightly. “Always.”

How to Save A Life: Part One

This is my entry for @teamfreewill-imagine and @latinenglishfandomblog‘s Sam’s Sixty June Jobs challenge! My profession was nurse, and this little series happened. Now, I’d like to say first off that I am not a nurse, although I do work very closely with them. So everything I write may not be exactly correct, but pretend it is, okay? ;)

CHARACTERS: Female reader, original characters, Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Josie Sands
SUMMARY: You’ve just graduated nursing school, and you’re starting a brand new job.
WARNINGS: AU, hospital happenings, which means talk of medical conditions, blood, etc. (Images found on Google search, gifs found on Tumblr.)

TAGS: @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mrs-squirrel-chester, @oriona75, @kittenofdoomage, @fingersinsamshair, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @littlegreenplasticsoldier, @manawhaat, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, @deandoesthingstome, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @saxxxology, @blushingsamgirl, @fandommaniacx, @nerdflash, @itsemmyb


You stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, looking yourself over.

You can do this.

This is why you spent six years in college. (It takes some people a little longer than the requisite four, okay?) All those tears, sleepless nights, tests you failed, tests you passed … They all led up to this.

You were a nurse. A real, live registered nurse who was now allowed to put “RN” behind her name. You had found a job away from your hometown—something you’d wanted since you graduated high school—and today was your first day.

You looked back up at the mirror, checking your makeup. Your hair was pulled back from your face like what had been required in nursing school, but now it was in a fashionable-ish ponytail, instead of the “I just rolled out of bed” messy bun you’d worn for the past two years. Gone were the stark white student nurse scrubs with the school logo embroidered onto the sleeve. Now, you wore the black scrubs that your new job called for.

Black was the color for the emergency room nurses.

And that was you, now. An emergency room nurse. If you thought much about it, you got nauseous, so you just checked and re-checked your appearance, then took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

You fixed your name tag on your top, made sure you had a couple of pens in your pocket, then nodded at your reflection, unable to stop the wide smile that crossed your face.

This was it. No turning back now. Time to go be a nurse.

Keep reading

The 5 things we learned from John and Irene’s meeting

1) Sherlock indeed follows John everywhere.

2) Irene Adler is truly in love with Sherlock. As she confesses, she made a mistake. When she was hiding from her enemies, when she thought she would probably die, when she faked her death to escape, she sent her camera phone to Sherlock. This was a silly and impulsive act. She did it for two reasons: a) she thought Sherlock would never imagine this password and b) she chose to give it to the person she loved the most. You don’t trust your most valuable object to an enemy. But when she returned, now wanting it back, she realized what she did was stupid, because a) she put Sherlock in danger and b) now Sherlock would start suspecting that she honestly loves him (but Sherlock already suspected it anyway). So she asks John’s help in order to retrieve the phone under Sherlock’s nose, because she didn’t want to reappear in front of him. In this case she’d have to find a bloody persuasive excuse to explain why she gave the phone to him in the first place.

3) John loves Sherlock more than Irene and the fans can even imagine. Irene thought John would agree to help her in order to let Sherlock believe she ‘s dead, because he doesn’t want her competiveness. 

JOHN: Tell him you’re alive. 
IRENE: He’d come after me. 
J: I’ll come after you if you don’t. 
I: (sarcastically) Mmm, I believe you. (”As if you didn’t wish me dead, so you could have Sherlock all for yourself.”)
J: (chooses not to reply to her last comment): You were dead on a slab. It was definitely you. 

 However, she is completely wrong. John cares about Sherlock’s emotional stability more than his own repressed feelings. He forces her to tell Sherlock she’s alive hoping that this will make him stop being miserable. Irene looks genuinely impressed by his love.

4) John Watson’s sexuality. Ok, this may be a long shot, because it is easier to understand Quantum mechanics than John Watson’s sexuality. It is very easy to just say that John is obviously a raging bisexual, as I see he’s characterized lately, but to my eyes the truth is more complicated, especially if we take into account the differences in the way John confronts this issue in every series. The S1 John is not the same with the S3 John. S2 John is somewhere in between. So, apparently, there is progress. More quantum mechanics under the cut:

Keep reading

I See Your Value Now: Asperger's and the Art of Allegory

(Also at the Medium.)

I’m in my therapist’s office, talking about friendship. I’ve been struggling with emotional intimacy and honesty—my whole life, actually, but it’s caused some more acute problems recently, which is why I’m back here now. In more practical terms, I’m here because my therapist is willing to schedule appointments via e-mail; when I’m fucked up, phone calls are insurmountably challenging. 

Last week we talked about how hard it is for me to articulate emotions, and how much I obsess over precision of language, and how closely that’s linked to how scared I am of miscommunication, of lying by the sheer act of trying to name something so personal and subjective and dependent on factors more complicated than any sentence or word or idiom can every convey.

I’m a professional writer.

The irony is not lost on me.


My homework this week has been to look at the very few relationships in which I feel comfortable talking about my feelings—especially negative feelings—and find common factors.

The answer, once I stumbled across it, was so stupidly obvious that I cracked up, and then I spent half an hour writing it down and tweaking the phrasing so I could be sure that when I told him he would hear what I meant.

The common factor, I tell my therapist, is cultural frame of reference. The only way I am consistently comfortable communicating feelings is via broad fictional allegory. The friends who know me best—not just likes-and-dislikes-and-interests, but things more fundamental and less articulable; the friends I’m willing to let see me fucked up; the friends I text at 3 AM when my world is falling apart; are the friends who read the same comics I do.

I tell him that I have a folder on my desktop labeled “feelings” that is mostly panels clipped from comics and Community gifs.

I tell him that I think maybe we should talk about Autism Spectrum disorders.

He tells me he’s been meaning to bring that up for a while now.


The Lady-Friend and I have been binge-watching Community. We love it a lot, for a lot of reasons, but Troy and Abed are our favorites. We have the kind of romantic relationship that is substantially goofy and involves a fair lot of best-bro grade-school-slumber-party nonsense; and while Troy and Abed are about ten years our junior, we are tickled as hell to see our very specific demographic of “adults who are still pretty into blanket forts” reflected in popular media.

Abed is my favorite character because Abed makes sense to me in a way that the other characters don’t. Abed is simultaneously exceptionally perceptive and exceptionally dense. Abed celebrates his interests in an obsessive, minutiae-focused way. Abed talks in pop cultural references and parses his experiences in general and interpersonal dynamics in particular by drawing parallels the structure and terms of fictional storytelling—although when he does it, there’s an extra layer to the joke because he is, of course, a committee-written fictional character on a sitcom.

In the pilot of Community, early on, there’s this exchange: Jeff, the leading man, who’s kind of an asshole, says, “Abed, I see your value now,” and Abed, genuinely excited, answers, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

I thought for a long time that the joke was that Jeff only saw people’s value when they were of direct use to him; that he thought he was being snide but actually saying something pretty nice. It turns out that the joke is that Abed interprets it as a compliment.

It’s often hard for me to tell when people are joking. It’s usually hard for for me to tell when they’re making fun of me.

I can’t imagine a more reassuring compliment than being told that someone sees my value.


I don’t tell my therapist this, but I do tell him about the Season 1 episode “Contemporary American Poultry,” in which the study group takes over the school as a chicken-fingers-themed crime family with Abed at the top.

Jeff likes being in charge, so he goes off to try to get Abed to stop. “The mafia movie is over,” he tells Abed.

And Abed, who has an organizational chart behind him listing everyone’s likes and needs, says, “I’m not doing a mafia movie. In fact, I don’t need to use movies or tv shows to talk to people anymore. Before, I only needed them because the day-to-day world made no sense to me, but now, everyone’s speaking the same language: chicken. I understand people, and they finally understand me.”

I thought, Yes. That makes perfect sense.

And then I thought, Man, that sounds so nice.


I like fiction, because fiction makes sense in ways that the real world doesn’t. Because in fiction, I have as much—more, often—interpretive resources as anyone else; because we’re all working from the same basic data set.

“I wish I were a fictional character,” I tell The Spouse, over and over, year after year. Fictional characters are fundamentally functional. They serve a purpose. If I were fictional, I would be of use. I could be everything anyone needs or wants me to be, with no self to get in the way. I could have a world with rules. I could be distilled into language, not lost again and again in imperfect translation.


The Spouse is extremely emotionally fluent. He’s all about those tight personal connections. He falls in love often and easily. He’s a feelings dude, and he uses words broadly and evocatively. He doesn’t get why I’d rather write about feelings than talk about them in person—to him, the personal contact and the connection are inseparable.

When I try to talk about how I feel—about things that matter—spontaneously, I trip over my own tongue. I drop out mid-sentence, go silent, trying to parse my thoughts. Eye contact distracts and panics me.

I’m fascinated by the way people interact, by the subtle languages of movement and physical cues and word choice and contact. I study it obsessively without ever quite managing to bridge the theory-practice gap.

I write out notes for important phone calls.

I write out notes for important conversations.

I practice facial expressions in the mirror.

I practice inflection in the shower.

I have never not done these things.

For a very long time, I assumed everyone did them.


I tell all of this to my therapist, and I also tell him that I’ve realized over the last few months that the experience I’ve always characterized as empathy is not, in fact, the same thing most of the people around me mean when they say “empathy.” Mine is more like very, very well-honed pattern recognition. I am a good listener. I give very good advice. I am very good at noticing and articulating patterns and motivations people don’t recognize in themselves.

I identify with very few of them.


It’s not that I don’t care about other people. It’s not that I don’t have feelings, or that mine are somehow different. I think they’re probably the same as anyone else’s feelings, but I don’t interact with them in ways that make sense by the rubrics I’ve grown up learning, or the ones the people around me seem to apply.


I have trouble with relationships in which I don’t feel like I’m of use—in which I don’t have something concrete to offer. I am much better at the explicit economy of professional relationships than the more nebulous territory of friendships. When it’s not explicit, I find it immensely difficult for me to eke out what’s expected of me.

Social rules don’t come instinctually to me; I look for patterns and cobble together crude rubrics based on them. In school, I got teased a lot, often under the loose pretense of friendship; as a result, I don’t really trust most people who seem to like me unless I can also discern a concrete reason that they’d value my company.


This clip is from Season 3, Episode 16 of Community, “Virtual Systems Analysis”:

They’re in the Dreamatorium, which is where Abed and Troy and now Annie play make-believe. The Dreamatorium is Abed’s territory—he’s the one who comes up with scenarios, makes the rules—but Annie, in a fit of pique, fucks with the cardboard engine so that instead of his mind, it’s filtered through other people’s feelings and needs.

Abed interprets the result as a world without Abed.


This is a theme that will come up again. In Season 5, Episode 6, Abed screws up his budding relationship with a girl named Rachel (whom I mostly think of as Coat Check Girl because the fact that a character I identify that closely with is dating a character with the same name as me messes with my system). Near the end of the episode, he offers a “third-act apology”—complete with a pal providing the trope-requisite rainstorm via a watering can and stepladder. It’s a pretty recent episode, so I couldn’t find embeddable video, but here’s a screencap of Abed being sincere and damp:

And here’s the dialogue:

Coat Check Girl: Abed, this is adorable.

Abed: Just because it’s adorable doesn’t mean it’s not important. Listen. I’ve been accelerating our relationship because I’ve been worried I wouldn’t pass a lot of the tests. I wanted you to move in because I thought if Annie was around, I’d have less chance of screwing things up.

CCG: You’re not screwing things up, though.

Abed: That’s good to know.But the problem with me will always be that I can never know for sure. There’s not a huge amount of people in my life that haven’t eventually kicked me out, and I don’t always see it coming. I don’t want it to happen with you.

CCG: Well, don’t manipulate me and don’t keep secrets from me and we’ll probably be okay.

Abed: Cool.

CCG: It stopped raining.

Abed: Yeah, it sure did.


The pop-culture characters with whom I most closely identify—the ones in the panels and screencaps I employ as emotional surrogates—are Scott Summers, post-death-and-resurrection Doug Ramsey, and Abed Nadir.

Here are some things they have in common:

They’re outsiders. They don’t really—click—with the people around them, even when they’re central to organizations or storylines.

They’re bad communicators; or they’re good communicators in ways that serve them well under only very specific circumstances.

They’re bad at feelings and overwhelmed by intimacy.

They’re pedantic and precise.

They’re often demanding and difficult, and as often paradoxically socially naive.

They’re utility-oriented. They have trouble adjusting to or relaxing in scenarios in which they don’t fill a specific function.

They bond hard and fast. They’re fiercely loyal and protective—

—and they’re rarely the ones to leave.


Like Abed, I have trouble imagining a place for myself in any world not of my own making. I see other people’s tolerance of and interest in me as a finite resource, one I can renew to a limited extent by being of use, but which will eventually and inevitably run out. I have a long and serial history as a flavor of the month. I assume—based on precedent, although the individual countdowns can vary significantly—that most of my friendships are running on borrowed time.

I am aware of the things that make me an appealing companion. I’m very smart and passionate. I can be fun and whimsical and weird and wildly creative. I’m generous and loyal.

I’m even more aware of the things that make me difficult to tolerate in more than limited doses. I’m too intense. I fixate: if we both love the Wachowski Speed Racer, I will be baffled when you don’t want to watch it again immediately, and again after that. You will realize that the eclectic-but-surprisingly-in-depth frame of reference that first impressed you is both badly uneven and the product of a compulsive tendency to get swept away in minutiae. My enthusiasm will go from charming to smothering. That smart, incisive analysis you admired will get in the way of your ability to just fucking enjoy things. What looked like whimsy will turn out to be weird and sometimes weirdly hostile compulsion and pickiness. The appeal of passion and conviction will be offset by extremely rigid ethical rubrics and a tendency to be ruthlessly judgmental and dismissive. I’ll goad you into arguments, and I won’t trust you unless you push back. You will realize that I am not scintillating when I don’t have the luxury of a delete key, or pithy without a forced character limit.When we talk, you’ll notice how often and how long I pause mid-thought. That I don’t really make eye contact. You’ll try to hug me, and your feelings will be hurt when I flinch.

You’ll realize that you don’t really know me as well as you thought you did, and you won’t really see a clear path from where you are to where you think the next landing ought to be. You’ll try to understand me, and I’ll push back, hard, like you’re trying to take something away. You’ll try to comfort me when I’m hurting, and I’ll either lie or run.

Many of these are not things I’m capable of changing. I know this because I have tried so hard, over and over, in every way I can find, nonstop, for thirty-one years. I can fake it, sometimes, but if you value genuineness and emotional intimacy, that’s going to get old, too.

Eventually, you’ll get fed up. You’ll leave. It’s okay. I probably would, too.

That’s why I keep you at arm’s length.


Well, it’s part of why I keep you at arm’s length. I’m not a people person.

People interest me. I care about some ferociously and passionately. I care about most in at least an abstract humanitarian sense.

But people also baffle and exhaust me, and I don’t trust most of them. They generalize and assume based on very limited data sets. They touch me. From behind. In crowds. They ignore the words I have so carefully arranged to say exactly what I want them to say and project their own insecurities and needs and prejudices. They treat me like an extension of them; they subsume who I am and what I say into whatever role they want or need me to fill and then punish me when I fail to follow a script I can’t see.

I wish I were better at being what people want me to be. I wish they’d tell me what that was.

I wish I knew what the rules were.

I wish there were rules.


“What you’re describing sounds a lot like the experience of someone with Asperger’s Syndrome,” my therapist tells me. I point out that according to the DSM-V, Asperger’s Syndrome no longer exists as a discrete disorder.

He laughs.


I’ve been reading about AS, and what I read resonates with eerie specificity. This makes sense in ways that attempts to parse myself almost never do. It’s like I had a huge volume of conflicting and confusing data, and suddenly, somehow, stumbled across the equation into which most of it plugs: Einstein making the connection between the transit of Venus and the theory of relativity.

Under the circumstances, the idea that there is a system that makes sense, even one that’s still theory at this stage, provides an intense but very tautological sort of relief.


We talk about diagnosis, and decide there’s no real reason to pursue an official one.

My therapist doesn’t do diagnostic testing, and it’s not a process I trust anyway: my last experience, in college, was grounds-for-a-complaint-to-the-APA horrific. An official diagnosis wouldn’t confer any real advantages: it’s not like AS is medicable; I function on a level that makes it highly unlikely I’d ever seek the kind of services that require an official diagnosis; and I’m self-employed, so reasonable workplace accommodations are kind of a moot point—my career is basically a reasonable accommodation. It’s also really, really expensive. And while I’m acutely aware of the cliche of semi-self-diagnosis, and the attendant baggage, it’s kind of a drop in the waterfall when it comes to social awkwardness.

Ethically, my therapist can’t say “probably” or “I suspect” in context of anything that sounds like a diagnosis, but he says that it seems like it would be a good idea to proceed as-if, which is good enough for me.


This is how I explain it to The Spouse:

“Imagine I’m a computer—I know, I know, just embrace the cliché—and we’re in a world where the overwhelming majority of computers run Windows, and we’ve all kind of always assumed that I’m just kind of buggy, because while a lot of things function the way you expect them to, some things don’t or require weird workarounds, and some things just don’t run at all.

"And then, imagine figuring out that oh, shit, I’m not a Window’s box. I’m a Mac with a Windows skin. And there’s enough UI overlap that people who go in assuming I’m running Windows will just assume that I’m buggy. And, again, there’s overlap—a lot of the functions and skills translate—but not all.”

My therapist likes the operating system analogy because it implies deviation more than dysfunction, which also fits with my read. The catch, though, is that disorder and dysfunction aren’t just intrinsic qualities: they’re also contextual. It doesn’t really matter how well your OS runs if you make up less than a tenth of a percent of the software market.


This is what scares me: If this is real and right—which I’m fairly certain it is—there are probably things of which I’m fundamentally incapable.

I mean: there are plenty of things of which I’m fundamentally incapable. I am not ever going to be an elite athlete or the CEO of a fortune-500 company. But those are exceptional things. These are normal things—things most people assume to be universal. Things that are supposed to be universal.

I always assumed that if I tried harder and longer, if I approached those problems from enough different angles, someday something would click.

It’s frightening to realize that fake-it-‘til-you-make-it may not apply. That there might be functions I can’t replicate. That there are gulches that can’t be bridged.

I’m not usually a very jealous person, but the idea that there are common terms on which the Spouse and the Lady-Friend can relate to their other partners but not to me fucking wrecks me.

That I’ve come to terms with the idea of people leaving doesn’t mean I’m not also scared of being alone.


The Spouse and I have known each other since we were eleven. We’ve been together, in some form or another, for more than half our lives, and we’ve grown up shaped by that mutual proximity. We speak a common language of decades of shared experience and inside jokes; of the books over which we first made friends; of movies and games and comics; of our shared sense of humor, which is weird and oblique and so deadpan that other people sometimes have trouble picking up on it.

The Spouse is a sysadmin; when I tell him the operating-system analogy, he thinks for a minute. “No,” he ways. “They’re Macs, and you’re running Linux.”

Oblique approaches and elaborate metaphor aren’t that intuitive for him, any more than feelings are for me—but he understands how much the precision of the analogy matters, even if he doesn’t quite get why.

This is how he explains: “You’re not something totally foreign to other people: you’re based on the same core. Maybe your interface isn’t intuitive for most users, and you can’t run all the same software, but for someone willing to put in the time, you’re more versatile and better oriented for a lot of specific advanced functions and customization.”

This is what I hear: I see your value.

It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

EXO reaction to their girlfriend wanting to surprise Suho for his birthday.

lydia-carol said to exowolf-reactions: Hello, I would ask an exo’s reaction to finding out that your girlfriend wants to surprise Suho on his birthday! Look forward to your reply! xoxo:3

사랑해 <3 - Admin Chas

/I don’t own any of the gifs used, unless stated otherwise/


*Goes to the nearest convenient store near studio during break and spots you* “Hey babe! What are you doing here?

You: “I’m picking up a little bit of party things because I want to surprise Suho since it was his birthday”

Yeol: “Can I help? We were busy and as you could see it was only me and Sehun but now ALL OF US CAN HAVE A PARTY!! I’ll help carry this up to the studio and I’ll texts the others to distract him so that we could decorate!” 


Fan: “We have to have a plan to sneak me over to Korea or sneak Myeon over here. Which one?”

You: “How about over here. We won’t raise too much suspicion”

Fan: “Okay. We can send him all black clothing and a wig and a mustache…”

*Names all kinds of disguises.*


Hun: “We already celebrated his birthday! Why again jagi?”

You: “That was only you and Chanyeol. We need to have it to where all of us are celebrating it with him so that he can be really happy!”


Tao: “Did you get the cake? We can’t have a party without cake.”

You: *Sighs* “Yes, I got the cake. Stop worrying about the cake. We need to worry about sneaking to Korea!”


*Jongin walks through the door with a bag*

You: “You did get the cake right Jonginnie?” *Takes the bag and opens it to see chicken* “Jongin! You forgot the cake!” *Places chicken in fridge* “Although, we can eat the chicken for supper but go back and get the cake!”


*Walks in the see a whole house of decorations and the words *Happy Birthday* all over the place. “Jagi?”

You: “Oh hey Minnie! You’re just in time! There is a cake in the fridge. Can you get it and light the candles?”

Minnie: “Who is this for?”

You: “Suho silly!”


*Calls your phone* “Can you bring my lunch over to the studio? Plus, everybody is wanting to see you since you’re finally back from visiting your family in the States.”

You: “Can we also celebrate Suho’s Birthday? I didn’t get to last week since I was gone.”

Baek: “I’ll let everyone know except Suho!”


Lu: “You didn’t celebrate mine!”

You: “You haven’t had your’s yet! Buy the ticket!”

*Grumbles while buying plane tickets for you both to go to Korea*


*Walks into the apartment and nearly had a heart attack as the whole gang jumps out and yells ‘Happy Birthday’. “What is this about? It’s not even my Birthday.”

You: “We all thought you was Junmyeon! Hurry up and get in place! Here is your streamer popper.” 

Dae: “Wasn’t his birthday last week?”

You: Weren’t you the one who decided to do this? I just decided to do the surprise party today instead since you all have the day off!”


*Walks in to see you in the kitchen* “What are you doing?”

You: “Baking a cake for Suho. I didn’t get to celebrate his birthday since I was busy so now that I have time, I want to give a cake to him.”

Soo: *Grabs your apron and puts it around himself* “I’ll help out.” 


*See’s your caller I.D* “Hey baobei! I was waiting for your call!”

You: “I have a surprise. I asked your manager if you could have tomorrow off and he said you could! I even bought you a plane ticket over here so that we could both celebrate Suho’s birthday together.”

Lay: “You’re the sweetest. I love you!”


“Happy Birthday Myeonnie.” *You walk in with a cake and the others singing*

*Myeonnie is smiling like the precious being he is. Closes his eyes for a wish and blows out the candles and pulls you into his lap and placed a kiss to your forehead* 

Myeonnie: “Best. Girlfriend. Ever.”

[Masterlist] [Guideline]

Broken Promises Part 8

A Dean x Reader / AU! angst series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

A/N: Apologies on how long it took me to write this! I started a new series and had some real life stuff going on, so I put this on the back burner for a bit. I think there’s only going to be two more parts to this and (maybe) an epilogue, but we’ll see how my brain works as I’m writing. Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of this fic and my writing in general. You guys rock! Side note: I’m literally 7 followers way from 2k and I cannot even contemplate life! As always, like, reblog, follow, and send me feedback! I love hearing from you! xo

- Nothing that I can think of but language.
- Oh, and talk of violence.

Squad Tags: @balthazars-muse @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @kayteonline @aprofoundbondwithdean @oriona75 @manawhaat @dancingdin @king-crowley-tho

*gifs are not mine.

You and Dean had fallen asleep in each others arms at some point during the night, although you couldn’t remember doing so. You awoke to his head rested heavily on your lap, his ear pressed against your stomach, as if he was intently listening for the baby’s heartbeat. You sighed, the flood of emotions from hours before rushing back to you. You ran your fingers through Dean’s hair and he shifted his head to face you, his eyes still closed, his mouth parted slightly. He was so handsome, yet even in sleep, you could see the worry on his face. Your stomach twinged with guilt, as you leaned down and placed a kiss on his furrowed brow. Dean stirred and his eyelids fluttered open, his green emeralds making eye contact with yours. When he realized where he was, he sat up straight, rubbing a hand over his face.

Keep reading


Happy Miraculous Mondays! So this morning, when I checked Tumblr at work, the first thing I noticed was that there was a new French episode featuring Nathanael already! I immediately started internally screaming and proceeded to lurk all day (while at work) on Tumblr, liking every photoset, post and gif I could regarding the new episode. It got to the point that when I finally DID watch the new episode when I got home, I felt like I had already watched it because I had become thoroughly spoiled with spoilers! OH THE FEELS IN THIS EPISODE! Nonetheless, as I have done with previous episodes, I’m going to talk a bit about what I thought of today’s episode! Warning: spoilers ahead!

Also, everyone wish Nathanael a Happy Birthday!

Keep reading