and i've been staring at the word 'always' for too long now and it looks wrong

anonymous asked:

hi! my depression's been acting up lately and I've been having a really tough time. I know you've written similar things before but i could really use a comfort fic. Most likely with lots of hugs and honest feelings and talking. Thank you and keep up the great work!

“I wanted to,” she’d half choked out, half snapped. Wanted to tell her. About the cheating.

And she meant it.

Sort of.

She’d wanted to tell her because Alex had said she didn’t want there to be any secrets between them.

Secrets.

Ha.

Secrets, like Maggie’s father. Like cheating on Emily.

Like the senior guys on the football field when she was a freshmen – because she was fourteen, she was a freshman, and a tiny one at that.

Like getting spit at in the street.

Like her depression.

Like her anxiety.

Like her tendency to bottle everything up until she just bursts.

Sometimes – well, once – by cheating.

Usually – much more than once – by punching, by drinking, by punishing herself, by pushing people away (hence the cheating).

She’d wanted to tell her.

But telling her would be a can of worms, a bombshell of damage, that she’s terrified will make Alex run. Will make Alex look at her like…

Will make Alex lose that spark in her eye, that smile, that softness. For her.

But when Alex shows up at her door – “Maggie, come on, I know you’re home” – Maggie has to text her instead of call out to her, because she can’t open her mouth right now. Doesn’t have the energy for it.

Barely has the energy to move her fingers over her phone’s screen.

Come in. I gave you the key for a reason.

Alex is in faster than Maggie even thought the text would send, and her eyes are swooping over Maggie’s body, scanning for damage, for injuries, for pain.

But it’s all inside.

“Maggie, what happened? You weren’t answering your texts, your captain said you called in sick but you weren’t sick this morning – “

Maggie just looks up and Maggie just stares, and tries not to let her chin tense, her lip wobble. But they do.

“Can I touch you?” Alex is asking, because Alex doesn’t miss a thing.

Maggie nods and she sighs with unexpected relief when suddenly she’s enveloped in Alex’s arms, when suddenly she’s gripping at her like she’ll drown if she lets go, and she will, she will, she will.

“I just hate it sometimes, Alex,” Maggie chokes, hating herself for her weakness, for her whining, for her patheticness.

“Hate what, Maggie?” Alex asks, trying to pull back so she can look at Maggie’s face, but Maggie doesn’t let her, because she can’t see those perfect eyes, that perfect face, right now, because seeing would mean Alex seeing her, and she is messy and she is a mess and she is damaged and she is damage itself.

“Life,” Maggie chokes, and she feels Alex tense.

She braces for goodbye, she braces for ableist shaming, she braces for this is too much, you’re too much, you’re not worth it, you’re not worth anything.

But she should know Alex better, because Alex just hugs her closer.

Alex just turns her face to kiss her temple. Alex just strokes her hair and whispers sweet nothings, sweet everythings, into her ear as she starts to shake, as she starts to break, as she starts to let the bottle burst through her tear ducts, through her chest wracking, through her hands grabbing, holding, needing.

“Did something happen? Or does this… do you get this feeling a lot?”

Maggie’s stomach churns, because she knows what Alex is asking.

Did something happen, or are you crazy?

“I’m not crazy,” she defends against an attack that isn’t there, and she feels Alex shake her head, and Alex succeeds in pulling back this time, in taking Maggie’s face between her hands and making sure she’s looking into Alex’s warm, warm eyes.

“Depression isn’t crazy, Maggie. Or whatever word fits for you. And hell, if anyone has a monopoly on crazy in this relationship, it’s me. You should see my rap sheet with the DEO shrink.”

“Psychiatrists don’t have… rap sheets, Alex, that’s not… how it works.”

“But it made you smile.”

“Nerd.”

“Shrink says I have BPD. And PTSD. All the acronyms. Kara has a few, too, but those are for her to tell you about if she wants – my point is, I get it, Maggie. I hate life so much sometimes I just… were you afraid? To tell me?”

Maggie sniffs and lifts her hand to her face, but Alex stops her and wipes her nose with her own sleeve, and Maggie has never been so moved.

“Well you know how much I love talking about myself, Danvers.”

“Maggie, I meant what I said. I’m here to help you heal. Even if there are things you can’t heal from. Even if there are things you’re always gonna to experience. Okay?”

“But why? I… I have zero emotional intelligence and I attach super quickly – hell, if I ever went to therapy they’d probably knock me with a BPD diagnosis of my own – and I do stupid things like cheat and lie about my parents and how do you know, Alex? That I won’t cheat on you after five years? Because you want to take the next steps with me, because I can’t handle it and I bottle things up and I lash out because I don’t know how else to end things, how else to destroy everything? Because that’s what I do, Alex. I destroy things. People. I destroy people.”

Alex strokes her hair and she takes a long, quiet breath, and she kisses her temple and she pulls her back into a soft, passionate hug.

“I don’t know, Maggie. I don’t know that you won’t cheat on me after five years because I want to take the next step with you. But I do know that we’ve taken a lot of steps already, and you’ve already stopped leaving the house and going to the couch when you need to walk away. And I know that you’re wrong. About yourself. You don’t destroy things, Maggie. You maybe don’t always make the best decisions, but you know what I see? I see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen trying so hard to navigate so much pain. And sometimes, you’re gonna make mistakes. I will, too. You’re human, Maggie. And I love you for it. I love you for how human you remind me that I am. Because I forget, too. So maybe… maybe we can remind each other?”

“You… love me?”

It’s Maggie that’s pulling back so they can make eye contact now, Maggie with the wide eyes and stilled breath, Maggie framing Alex’s face with trembling hands.

“Yeah, Sawyer. I love you. I’m soft on you. That okay with you?”

“Only if it’s okay that I love you back.”

“That’s more than okay, Maggie. So much more than okay. And you’re gonna be, too. I promise.”

it’s something of a cliché to say that we all think we’re monsters [pike’ahlia]

Vex knows.

It is not so hard a thing, to see yourself reflected in the facets of others; she has seen herself in her the strained lines of her brother’s laugh and the twist of his shoulder when he throws a dagger and the roll of his silent feet upon the earth. She knows how to find her own doubt in Keyleth’s bold uncertainty, and her lingering shadows in Percy’s stalwart refusal to speak of the past, and her brimming anger in Grog’s rage-blind eyes. Even Scanlan’s gilded tongue holds slivers of her silvered speech. 

For all this familiarity, rough-edged figures cut from cloth that is not the same but similar, is something different to see it in Pike.

Pike does not wear her similarities outwards; she holds them tight inside, and if it were not for Vex’s sharp eye (and that is hers; that she shares with none of them, the keen glance, the discernment, the quiet certainties about the pressing world) she would not know it. But Vex’s eyes are quick and clever, and Pike is not so good at hiding as she likes to think.

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anonymous asked:

Can u recommend some wolfstar fics?

the electric fizzing prick pistols, or whatever by whitmans_kiss (3k+ words, no rating, completed)

everyone is born with words on their arm that connect them to their soulmate. james finds his, sirius had everything figured out back in first year, peter doesn’t talk to girls anyway, and remus thinks he’d very much just like to put his earmuffs back on and disappear.

Keep reading

[ @the-mic-drop this might not be what you had in mind, but I hope it’s satisfactory. also, I thank @nervmaid for this. ]

A rather sudden bang distracts Roadhog from his novel.

Dog-earing the page, he sets the worn book down on his belly and sighs through his mask. Two years of playing bodyguard has granted him enough experience to distinguish one bang from another. Explosions, while outside the norm for the everyday citizen, have a surprising array of sounds that Roadhog has become well acquainted with. If anyone cared to ask, he’s sure he could name every type of explosive he’s heard. In fact, it has come to the point where he could give a rough estimate on how much damage a bomb might inflict from its noise alone, and he supposes that might be an impressive feat if he weren’t so invested in making sure the creator of said bomb remains in one piece.

Fortunately for him (and his boss, he must concede), the bang does not belong to any sort of explosive.

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anonymous asked:

Restrained

post Founder’s Mutation


Her hands are tied behind her back, the tethers invisible but tight, her wrists aching against their everlasting pull. Though she rarely sleeps on her stomach - he noticed that too, furrowed his brow as she shifted positions in bed, wondered what other habits she’d picked up of late - she lies chest-down now, her cheek hot against the starched pillow, her lungs heavy upon the mattress. He’s still awake, so of course, he knows she’s still awake.

Once upon a time - he used to always begin his stories like that, once upon a time, two agents named Mulder and Scully scurried out to the far reaches of the planet and learned that, in the end, it doesn’t matter what we see but with whom we see it - they shared a bed like this. Not in the romantic way, no, but in the incidental and apologetic way that two non-lovers subdued daily by mutual but silent attraction would. Once upon a time, they checked into a Motel 6 and found, well, damn it, there’s one room left, only a queen-size open. Though she knew better than to believe in the law of averages, she still mused the statistical improbability, the way that the theorems of the world should at least have allowed for one or two cancellations that night; last week, she read a theory on how the world is all Matrix - she still knows where that DVD is in their home, wedged up between Contact and Interstellar on the shelf - and just a computer simulation, and if that’s true, then the mathematical modeling that binds everyone together should have given them another option. They could have driven to another hotel even though it was past midnight, or they could have crashed on the local sheriff’s couch, or they could have slept in the car while parked alongside two RVs and a truck in a starkly-lit Walmart lot. Instead, Mulder looked to her, then agreed to one room, and the way her heart had stopped at the prospect made her wonder if morals could ever be absolute; if pain and terror could be so exciting, then why are the body’s warning signs? Why are the things that terrify us so indulgent? 

But she digressed and came into bed with him and silenced her scientific mind while he stayed above the sheets. He slept in sweats and a tee shirt while she wore all-too-proper pajamas, a night suit as he’d once called them. Then, she slid onto her side and stared toward the motel room’s window, one blocked off by a shabby curtain that let flickers of parking lot light in, and she waited for something she couldn’t identify.

“You’re still awake,” he said after minutes, hours, days, she couldn’t tell.

“You are too,” she gave softly, hesitantly.

“Of course I am,” he said. “I don’t sleep.”

Uncomfortably, she lay there, her body tense in a workday kind of way: shoulders up, eyes wide open and stinging with tiredness, stomach empty, legs aching. Back then, her restraints were looser around her wrists, and sometimes, they threatened to fall beyond her fingers, so regularly, she tightened them. Occam’s Razor, she used to explain to herself; it was far more likely that she was simply unsexed and bored with her personal life than that she was silently but genuinely in love with him, so she kept her professional rigidity, left her mask of scientific indifference on.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause.

Though she too was sorry, she knew their reasonings wouldn’t align, so she kept quiet. In the morning, they didn’t discuss how he curled up against her back at some point in the night, and they didn’t make a big deal about how she stared a second too long after walking in on him while he was in the shower. Most of all, they never talked about what they would do if such a thing happened again.

And it did happen again, though new context forced previous awkwardness away. Instead of wasting money on two required hotel rooms, they were forced into one when they would’ve used only one anyway; with his hands strong around her hips, his mouth warm and wet against her skin, she found those nights similar to any other night of that time, the room situation disregarded. For a while, she only stayed in hotels during medical conferences in far-off places, so she reserved one room with one bed, the practice easy and simple and everyday. Nowadays, they’re back to two rooms, one bed each, and as they did once upon a time, they both retreat to their own rooms at night, only now she wears his old shirts to bed while she doubts he wears anything at all.

Tonight, she asked for two rooms, and, what do you know, they’re booked. After all, this motel’s tiny, and up here in the Adirondacks during on-season, kitschy cabin-style places that are cheap and have enough parking for a boat rack sell out quickly. Though there are eight units total, seven were full upon their arrival, only one left to boot. The next closest establishment is at least twenty miles away, and here in lake-and-land country, the roads are dark and narrow, begging a driver to lose control. In terms of probability, it seems the world wants her to lose control in some way or another. This time, she accepted the one room while he stared on blankly. 

“You’re still awake,” he says, and she feels the restraints grow tighter.

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anonymous asked:

if requests are still open can i request some comforting headcanons with todoroki, bakugou and midoriya for a fem s/o who has to deal with a bad home situation like her dad kinda yells at her a lot but she usually keeps it in but she can't take it anymore and needs to be comforted? (sorry this was kinda detailed i've been having a hard time at home recently and your blog usually comforts me so thank you and sorry if this was confusing or anything)

((hey bud, I’m sorry about your situation. I kinda know how you feel a little bit lol. if you ever need to talk to anyone about stuff, feel free to im me any time))

“You’ve been acting strange all day, [Name]. What’s wrong?”
You looked up from your phone, surprised to see a look of blatant, obvious concern on Todoroki’s face. You hadn’t been acting strange. Had you been acting strange? “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired.”
“Tired of?” Shit. Since when was Todoroki good at reading the mood? “Seriously, what’s the matter?… Is everything okay at home?”
Goddammit, he was onto you. You sighed, feeling your shoulders slump inward. “It’s, uh, it’s been a rough week, dear. Really loud around the house, you know?”
He sat down next to you, gently pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it? Or just sit here?”
“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a hero. I mean, if I get all worked up by my dad, how’m I gonna deal with actual villains? When I’m in physical danger instead of just getting yelled at, you know? Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Those are different situations, [Name]. It’s harder when it’s someone close to you, as opposed to some random person trying to kill you. It’s okay.”
Well, Todoroki always had a way with words. “Yeah, but if I’m this faint-hearted…”
“Faint-hearted? Who’s faint-hearted?” He jerked back to look at you, and his face barely fell short of minor offense. “I don’t see a faint-hearted person in the room. [Name], dealing with fathers is hard. Trust me, you can still become a hero with a shitty dad.”
You knew you looked a little pathetic, but how could you help it? “You think so?”
“Hey, I’m doing it, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I forgot about that, sorry.”
He must have tried to kiss your cheek, but missed and got you on the corner of your mouth instead. “I don’t mind that not being the first thing people remember about me. Are you feeling better?”
“…Yeah. Thanks, Todoroki. Love you.”
“Love you too.”


“Can we keep it down a little, Bakugou? You’re being a little too loud right now.”
“Huh?! I’m not being loud at all!”
You flinched. For such a sweet boyfriend, he sure did yell a lot. “I mean, a little… Actually a lot. Your voice is really loud right now and it’s kind of hurting my ears and could you stop please?”
He turned toward you, sharp eyes boring into your soul. “What’s your problem? You good?”
“Uh…”
“It’s your shithead of a dad, isn’t it? What’d he do now?” An immediate reaction. His fists were clenched, eyes narrowed. He was on the offensive. “I’ll get him. What did say to you?”
“Nothing! Nothing. Just… I should be studying more, probably. Not doing too good.”
His voice lowered almost immediately. “I’ll help you. I’m at the top of the class, I’m plenty damn capable.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “You’d tutor me? Seriously?”
“Yeah! What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help you tell your dad to shove it? Let’s start tonight.”
“Wait, tonight? Can’t we start tomorrow?”
“No! If we start now you can ace that test on Thursday! Come on, get a book!”
You didn’t know you’d unleash militant teacher Bakugou, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good to have someone care so much. “Fine, whatever. Love you, babe.”
“Come on!”
“Babe!”
“…Yeah ditto.”


“[Name], hey, how’re you doi—sleeping. You’re sleeping.”
You lifted your head up from the foot of your bed, blearily staring at Midoriya. “Huh? No no I’m good. Long day. Long month.”
He came and sat next to you, trying to straighten out your hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Dad. Just dad.” You grumbled, and Midoriya noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “He’s been annoying and loud and I’m tired, tired, tired,” You spat bitterly. “Do you have headphones I can borrow?”
He laid down next to you, slinging an arm over your waist. “Are you okay?”
You grimaced. “Can I come over some time? Like, not even to spend the night, just stay really late and go home in the dead of night?”
“Wouldn’t that just give him more reason to yell at you?”
“Don’t care. If it all happens at once it’s fine. When it’s spread out over the day is when it sucks. I’m not even gonna ask to stay for dinner, can I just chill in your room for a few hours?” It occurred to you as soon as the words left your mouth that you were sort of imposing. “Oh shit, didn’t mean to invite myself over like that.”
He shook his head. “No, you can come over. My mom loves you, she’d probably prepare the guest room for you and everything.”
Inko did seem to enjoy having you over a lot. “For real?”
“Yeah! Come over this weekend if you want! Come spend time with my parent, she’s great!” Mama’s boy. “If it’ll help with your situation, you can come over whenever you like.”
You pressed your face into his neck, kissing just below his ear. You loved doing that, he always shivered a little bit. “Thanks Izuku. You’re the best.”

“@pod7et

“Alright, everyone - on three. One, two–”

“Not it!” Parker interrupted, holding up her hand.

“I hadn’t said three yet,” Eliot snarled.

“When has playing by the rules ever gotten any of us anywhere?” she countered with a smirk.

“Well, there was that one time,” said Hardison, ticking off a mystery point on one finger, “oh, and that other,” two fingers, “and that one - oh yeah, we played by the rules so good that time, and–”

“Hardison!”

“Wha?”

Not helping,” said Eliot through gritted teeth, heaving a sigh. “Look, Parker, we’ve been over this. Hardison and I can’t play the couple, it’ll draw too much attention.”

“Why? Gay marriage is really common now!”

“Hey, not gay!” Hardison protested.

“Great, and now he’s not gay.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you two get hitched, then, ‘not gay’ and ‘not it’ are made for each other.”

“I am not gay,” Hardison repeated emphatically. Parker rose from her chair, slipped behind him, and pantomimed his movements and speech pattern. “I am pansexual and queer and when you disrespect my identity you disrespect me and dammit where did Parker go, she’s standing behind me, isn’t she? Yeah - of course she is. Look, it’s easy - I need to handle the security system, so you two go get hitched, and let me work. Ya’ll hurt a guys feelings, arguing about which of you want to be married to me less, I get it, okay? Just a…” He trailed off, mumbling, poking at his phone.

“Fine,” said Eliot, throwing up his hands. “Parker, let’s go check the jewelry stash for matching rings that fit. We’ve wasted enough time on this argument.”

“Wait, which of you am I married to?” asked Parker.

“Neither!” Hardison and Eliot said simultaneously. 

Parker pouted until they pulled out the casket where the jewelry was kept. Nothing cheered her up like more gold and gems and platinum and jade than she could hold in her cupped hands. Seeing her smile, Eliot’s sour mood eased. They were both idiots, so much younger and less experienced than he, so determined that this threesome when work when it had been the two of them originally and would be the two of them long after Eliot finally did something stupid enough to get himself killed. But until then, he could indulge them, he supposed. 

The hardest part was to get Parker to stop picking out pretties and stashing them in her pockets.

Hours later, Eliot had to amend that thought. The hardest part hadn’t been getting a ring on his finger. The hardest part hadn’t been trying to play two different men simultaneously, one married to Parker, the other married to Hardison. The hardest part hadn’t been when he got caught mid-change and the job went to hell. The hardest part hadn’t even been taking a few hits so Parker could make a clean escape.

No, this was definitely the hardest part.

“Are you insane?” said Eliot.

“Hey, hey, we do not use the ‘i’ word–”

“That really hurt my feelings, Eliot.”

“–we know it hurts Parker’s feelings, come on, baby, Eliot didn’t mean it, he’s just surprised.”

“I meant you, Hardison! If you guys want to make this real by all means, go for it! No one is holding you back!” Can we please just stop talking about this? I want it too much for any of this to be okay with me.

“No! Nate and Sophie, they taught me to be honest about my feelings, and this is me, being honest! I’m marrying both of you.”

“You can’t do that, Parker!”

“Why not?” she asked with actual confusion. Eliot raked a frustrated hand down his face. 

“Hardison, for the love of…talk sense in to her!” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that, right after I…” Hardison stopped typing with a flourish. “Alright, boys and girls…uh…boy and girl, we are good to go.”

“Thank friggen God, I can’t wait to put this whole shitshow of a job behind us and–”

Hardison flicked over his phone and an image appeared on their projector - an engagement announcement for Parker, obviously in her Alice White alias, to one of Hardison in that damned Ice Man bullshit outfit he’d pulled. 

“Hardi–”

Eliot had never been interrupted by a silent cocky grin before, but there was no answering that look on Hardison’s face. Hardison flicked over his phone again and another announcement turned up - Parker and Eliot, as themselves - and another flick interrupted Eliot’s next strangled attempt at an interjection, Hardison and IT guy Eliot.

That had been a good look for him…the glasses…Parker loved him in the glasses. With a sigh, Eliot deflated.

“Really?” he asked. Though his tone was resigned, there was a warm glow in his chest. He couldn’t deny that he wanted this. But it was a terrible idea.

“Really,” said Hardison and Parker, staring at him hard. 

“Unless you’re going to keep being a little bitch about it,” Hardison added.

“Hey, you love it when I’m a little bitch,” Eliot said pointedly.

“Yep, we both do,” said Parker with a gentle smile. Eliot sighed again. God, no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing - the wrong thing? whatever - these two always twisted him around so damn easy and the worst part was…

“Fine,” he conceded.

“Yes!” Parker gave an adorable jump, punching a fist in the air, and Hardison smirked like his damn mouth had gotten stuck like that.

…the worst part was he absolutely loved them for this kind of bullshit.

Guess I’m getting married.

Twice.

anonymous asked:

I hope your doing well, and life isn't being too mean to you! I absolutely love your writing, and hope you are enjoying it and able to continue for a long time. I was wondering if you could do a headcannon for RFA+V+Saeran where MC is depressed/deals with a lot of self hate, but hides it really well and pretends to be happy all the until one day she just breaks down in tears and reveals everything she was feeling. Sorry if this request was long it would b comforting, thank you 4 being awesome!

this is me in a nutshell, but i don’t have anyone to confide in haha :’)) i hope this makes you feel better though ;v;

sorry this is so late kms

Yoosung

  • he’d have no clue until your meltdown happens
  • you’re always so bright and happy??? 
  • he asks what’s wrong and when you respond with “I hate myself I’m so sorry”
  • he’s so sad and upset
  • why didn’t you tell him sooner?
  • he would have tried to help you to the best of his ability but
  • when he sees how hard you’re crying, he realizes that you’ve probably been storing up all of this self-hatred and depressive thoughts for so long
  • it must have been so painful for you…
  • he thought about making your favorite comfort food, but then realizes that’s probably not the smartest thing
  • when you cry out his name and reach your arms out
  • he instantly flies to you and hugs you so tightly
  • Yoosung’s worried but also flustered – he only dealt with this one other time with his cousin when Sally died
  • tries reassuring you with positive words and continuing to hold you in his arms
  • and you will have his undivided attention when you’re ready to talk

Zen

  • in a different way, you’re a better actor than him
  • but he never expected you of all people to be depressed
  • how could a wonderful person like you hate yourself so much…?
  • then again, he did remember hearing the saying that people who are always laughing and smiling on the outside are the ones who are actually sad and depressed on the inside
  • it was quite baffling for him, but nonetheless, he’s ready to support you no matter what
  • he wish he could magically kill off all of your negative feelings towards yourself
  • but he knows that isn’t possible, so he does his best to comfort you while you’re currently at your lowest
  • you were sure that your face looked hideous and hid it in you hands, not wanting Zen to see
  • about to run into a different room to cry it out by yourself, he grabs you and pulls you against him, not letting go
  • too upset to resist anymore, you cry into his chest
  • Zen wasn’t about to allow you to face your troubles alone anymore
  • he gently shushes you and kisses the top of your head in attempt to help soothe you
  • he will always give his best support in making sure that you’re happy again

Jaehee

  • might have a lingering suspicion here and there, but decides to brush it off thinking that it’s just her imagining things
  • you’re always joking around and happily messing with the other members like Seven, so it’s just her right?
  • wrong
  • as you were sitting on the couch with a warm cup of coffee, Jaehee notices that you’re quieter than usual
  • looking over at you, she’s about to ask what’s wrong, but then notices that you’re
  • crying…?
  • setting your cup of coffee aside, you try and wipe the tears away, but they keep coming
  • you apologize and try to act like it’s nothing, but you’re in too deep now
  • you full-on break out into sobs
  • and she’s just like
  • what the hell am i supposed to do
  • she’s never been too good with comforting people so she’s not sure she can help
  • but when you literally throw yourself onto her, she’s confused, but decides quickly that the best thing is to hug you
  • now she’s extremely worried – she’s never heard anyone cry this hard before
  • and she can only assume for now that you’ve been holding this in for a really, really long time
  • hopefully, you will allow her to understand the reason why you’re crying this hard once you’re calmer

Jumin

  • if you’re good at keeping a happy mask on, then he’s going to assume that you’re happy because he’s still getting adjusted to emotions and the like
  • so when he comes home to find you staring out the window and asking him the oddest questions
  • he’s confused and asks you why so serious all of a sudden?
  • and when you turn around with despair on your face and tears falling from your eyes
  • Jumin immediately jumps into action, rushing over to you and grabs your face gently
  • he’s wondering what happened to that smile that was the world to him, now replaced with sadness?
  • you apologize incoherently saying that you should have told him sooner
  • but you didn’t want him to worry over you so much
  • resting his forehead on yours, he softly shushes you in attempt to stabilize your mood
  • it takes some time, but eventually his low voice while trying to calm you down works
  • but because that breakdown was so emotionally draining, you put all your weight on him and began dozing off
  • picking you up and carrying you to your shared bed, he tucks you and puts Elizabeth the 3rd next to you and she gladly cuddles up to you

707

  • both of you are two peas in a pod
  • while he does love your happy and fun side, Saeyoung can see right through your fake smiles; just as you saw through his
  • while you two are lying on the couch together, he brings this up and you act like you don’t know what he’s talking about at first
  • but the way he looks at you makes you realize that he’s not joking
  • tears begin forming in your eyes, and eventually you just completely break
  • a sad look covers his visage as you’re sobbing and constantly repeating how you hate yourself and that you don’t want to be in the world anymore
  • it hurts Saeyoung to see how long you’ve been bottling up all of those feelings of self-hate and negativity
  • if he could, he’d take all of your burdens and sadness from you because he doesn’t want you to feel like he does from time to time
  • he wants to see you smiling and genuinely happy without having to fake it everyday
  • Saeyoung pulls you closer into his chest and you you cry and cry 
  • and at that point, tears begin falling from his eyes as well – the amount of pain you’re in is really getting to him
  • so you lie there on the couch, crying in each other’s embrace until sleep overtakes both of you

V

  • because V can’t see your face, he relies on your tone of voice to determine your mood most of the time
  • and it always sounds so happy and bright
  • it’s like music to his ears
  • but one day, you just break down, unable to hold in all of the negative emotions in anymore
  • lots of “I can’t take it anymore” or “I’m just a burden” escape your mouth
  • and the sound of hurt and pain coming from you breaks him
  • V understands the feeling of being a burden, but he doesn’t want you to feel that way – you don’t deserve to feel so low
  • moving closer to you, he embraces you in a comforting hug with his comforting arms and pulls you as close as he can, letting your tears stain his shirt
  • V is silent while you cry
  • but strokes and kisses your hair softly, reassuring you that you can cry and scream for as long as you want
  • he won’t let go until you confirm that you’re okay for the time being
  • he knows that he can’t cure your mental illness, but he promises to always be your rock when you need him
  • as you are his when he needs you

Saeran

  • you’re always smiling and laughing and trying to cheer him up when his periods of depression kick in
  • and he really does appreciate that because he needs that form of positivity in his life
  • but when he hears a muffled sound coming from the bedroom and goes to check, he’s more than surprised to see you curled up in a ball and crying
  • at first he wasn’t sure if he should intervene, but something in the back of his mind was telling him to do it anyway
  • when he crawls into bed and asks if you’re okay, but instead of a proper response, you cling and cry into him, incoherent words escaping your mouth
  • he does, however, catch “I hate myself so much” in your midst of bawling
  • and a genuine look of worry covers his face as he realizes that you’re more than likely suffering from depression, but he’s also angry
  • angry that you have to put up with dealing with depression and hating yourself – you don’t deserve to feel so shitty
  • how long have you been bottling this up; masking your pain and darkness?
  • Saeran definitely knows what it’s like to self-hate and have depression and it’s not fun
  • he’s not sure if he’s really doing the right thing, but he awkwardly puts his arms around you in an effort to comfort you
  • he didn’t dare try and comfort you with words, as he knows he’d mess up and say the wrong things
  • even if it took the whole night to calm down, he’d stay with you, because he remembers that you’ve done the same for him when he was at his lowest

anonymous asked:

kc, i've been thinking this a few days now and i wouldn't mind any input, but can you imagine if during the fight that ultimately ended up with genji's blood on hanzo's hands one of their close friends (significant other at the time?) gets the misfortune of showing up at the wrong time and being greeted with the sight of one dead shimada and one looking so hollow afterwards? that would def fuck with someone. can you imagine the reunion that happens years later? that would be awkward with either.

A/N: I was waiting for a day where I could gather the right kind of Hanzo feels for this. I suck at writing, I tried to be angsty and it didn’t work. I guess I’m stuck in fluff city for the rest of my life. Sorry guys! hahah


Originally posted by neroangelus

You thought you were going to die. Hanzo stared down at you with a stunned expression. He had thought you were another assassin sent to kill him for whatever reason. That or Genji had decided to come back to pester him to join Overwatch again.

It was that time of year. Perhaps it was probably silly to keep up the tradition of paying respects to his dead brother when he technically wasn’t dead, but it was tradition. Hanzo was good at tradition and he hadn’t yet accepted what Genji had become; to him Genji was dead and he had killed him.

You gasped for breath as Hanzo continued to press his forearm into your throat, pinning you to the ground. You watched as he seemed conflicted for a moment, before removing his arm and body, allowing you scramble backwards to put some space between the two of you. “T-Thank you.” It probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but it was already too late for a cordial ‘hello’.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Heyo! I just finished reading your whole blog ;) and it was fabtastic! Anyways can I request the allies reacting to a s/o who subconsciously get closer to them / grabbing their arm when they are walking together out of habit? Gender neutral is fine:)

Ahhh~ I’ve added more~ That said, sorry for the delay!

America/Alfred F. Jones:

Alfred and _____ were walking rather peacefully together. They’d had a blast together at the carnival in town and were not calmly walking home. Alfred, being the hero he is, offered gallantly to walk _____ home. Even though they’d politely told him no, Alfred insisted and now the two were walking to _____’s place in peace.

Alfred was energetically walking next to ______, when they’d started getting closer to him.

Alfred didn’t pick up on this fact and continued on with his almost marching gait as _____ corrected their subconscious act.

When Alfred was just about to turn his head and excitedly tell ______ something, he noticed it, and a huge smile grew on his face. “_____!!”

This startled them, but they looked up at him in confusion, “erm… Yeah, sorry. I-”

Alfred’s smile grew even larger, and he grabbed poor, confused _____’s hand. “If you wanted me to protect you that way, all you had to do was ask!”

Their walk together continued, but this time Al was even more excited than before!

Ivan Braginsky/Russia:

Ivan had only wanted to do some light shopping for his home. And that’s what he had intended to do. If not for the fact that he’d found _____. He was happy, of course, but he was always much too nervous around them. Sure, they’d been in a relationship for a while now, but he didn’t want to risk anything.

But, here he was. He was walking home with _____ now. He was happy! Yeah!

But, he was also incredibly nervous. His palms only got sweatier when ______ unconsciously moved closer to him on the walk home. He gulped down saliva and his face quickly heated up, but he continued looking straight ahead.

When it happened again, it took all of his will power to not grab onto their hand with his much larger one.

He still wouldn’t want to risk anything. Not a single thing.

France/Francis Bonnefoy:

After a sweet, romantic date at a nice, but not unnecessarily expensive, restaurant, the evening closed with Francis and his (s/o), ______, walking home side by side. Although they were officially an item, it hadn’t been long into the relationship at all.

Francis hadn’t made a move on _____ either, rather, he was waiting for signs that it was okay to do so. He longed to hold their hand in his, but didn’t want to make them unbearably uncomfortable. So, he waited.

His waiting bore fruit when he realized ______ had gotten physically closer to him on their walk home from one of the best evenings they could’ve had together.

Francis, being the guy he was, wasted no time in clasping their hand in his own. He handsomely smiled down at them; no words were needed.

They’d not only gotten physically closer, but also mentally closer.

China/Yao Wang:

Yao moves incredibly slow in a relationship. It would be thought that he’d be a bit more fast in one, but he is as slow and dense as a tortoise when it comes to such things.

He would, however, recognize ______ getting closer to him on their walk home together from a festival.

He’d opted to not say anything until it happened for the third time. “______, just what are you doing, hm?”

“Ah! I’m sorry– it’s just a habit and–” _____’s face flushed as they’d said this. Their face flushed even more when Yao grabbed their hand with his.

Yao’s face was also slightly red, but he smiled at his (s/o). “There. Now you don’t need to worry about whether or not you’re too close.”

England/Arthur Kirkland:

“Ah, that was refreshing!” Arthur smiled at _____. “Did you enjoy yourself, _____?”

______ stepped together with Arthur, smiling up at him as they answered, “yes! The spa was incredibly refreshing!”

The duo had gone out to the spa for an escape from reality. Now they were on their way to the room they’d booked. They had to take an elevator up to the room. “Peculiar, isn’t it? But, it’s also quite quaint.”

Arthur’s (s/o) laughed at him, and accidentally moved closer to him as they did so. “S-Sorry!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I got… Um, I got closer to you– by accident!”

Arthur, slightly confused, stared at them. “Love, we’re a couple now. What are you so worried for?” A slight chuckle left his lips and he reached over to grip their waist from behind. “Don’t worry so much, all right?”

Canada/Matthew Williams:

Matthew always respected others personal space no matter what. He never tried to get in anybody’s way, and was pretty good at it. That went the same for his (s/o). Him and _____ were on their way home from a hockey game. Matthew’s team had one, and he was in pretty high spirits because of that!

He was on cloud 9, in all actuality. Here he had the greatest person in the world walking next to him, and his team had one their game. There’s no way that his day could get any better!

But, it did. Said greatest person in the world was unconsciously getting closer to him as they walked next to each other.

Matthew, in his gleeful state, reached for their hand, forgetting all about his love to respect personal space, and twirled them around.

“Today’s been great, _____!” He smiled boyishly.

______, after getting over their shock, could only agree with him. “Yes!”

Footprints in the Sand

This was written for @timepetalsprompts weekly ficlet prompt of a Tentoo x Rose free for all.

Tentoo x Rose, ~1200 words

The Doctor joins Rose on the beach while they wait for a taxi to collect them, and he makes one thing absolutely clear to her.

AO3

As soon as the TARDIS dematerialized, Rose had stopped kissing him and had run towards the fading blue box. That had stung more than the Doctor would ever admit to her.

She looked so lost and confused as she stared at the imprint where the TARDIS used to be, that he did the only thing he could think of: he took her hand. She gripped his fingers tightly and rubbed his thumb with her own. The familiar action made his single human heart soar. They’d be okay, he reckoned. Eventually.

But then Jackie called out to them, telling them that Pete had sent a taxi service to pick them up, and their moment was broken. Rose dropped his hand like it had burned her and mumbled something about “needing a mo’” before she quickly walked off.

The Doctor looked after her, helpless, and turned back to Jackie. She was watching him with sympathetic eyes and a sorrowful smile.

“How are you, sweetheart?” she asked.

Keep reading

So I wrote a thing.

Untitled ficlet, Harry/Louis, PG, canon.


Harry sends him an issue before the photos even leak, by courier, as if he’s afraid Louis might not see it soon enough. Louis knew he’d been working on something, because Niall told him, but he had no idea the scope was so big. “A special document curated by Harry,” the magazine cover proudly proclaims. On it, Harry stares at Louis through a spiderweb, but it’s hard to pay attention to Harry’s eyes when Louis’s gaze keeps coming back to the collar around Harry’s neck. The bottom of the picture is obscured by text, but Louis’s quite sure there’s a leash dangling from the collar.

It’s admittedly not what Louis had been expecting.

Louis watches the cover for a long while before he flicks the magazine open at random…

… and falls on an ad.

It only takes him two more tries before he methodically rips off every page that isn’t to do with Harry, barely looking at the ones that do feature him, until there’s a pile of paper at his feet high enough for him to throw a good kick into it, scattering them everywhere.

This time when he opens the magazine, it’s to find Harry sitting on a trashcan. He looks so young that for a second Louis assumes they’ve used old pictures for the article, but the shot is quite obviously recent, even if Harry’s hair looks nothing like on those Dunkirk pics (which Louis only saw because Liam sent him some, it’s not like he trolled the #dunkirk tag on twitter or anything).

Louis flips back a few pages, stops on a picture of Harry sitting on a kitchen counter in the most hideous jumper Louis has ever seen; it looks like someone’s killed a muppet and made a sweater out of it. It should look ridiculous, but Harry looks beautiful, with his lips curled imperceptibly down into a bored pout, his slender fingers pressed against his chin, his eyes half-lidded.

Another picture shows him holding a pint, looking too young to be allowed to drink its contents. He looks like the Harry Louis met six years ago, like the Harry Louis used to call his best friend before they were driven apart… by the rumours, by fear, by time.

Louis loses himself in the pictures and the words, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor of his hallway, fingers stroking the glossy pages. He knows every word and every photo has been carefully chosen, knows Harry has only shown precisely what he wanted to show, but he still gets fooled into believing he’s being made privy to the deepest corners of Harry’s soul.

Once upon a time, this wouldn’t have been an illusion. The memory only makes the deception more potent, and more painful.

Harry is baring his heart out for the whole world to see and he apparently wanted Louis to see it so badly he made sure Louis would get a copy.

When Louis types Harry’s name into his phone with fingers that are definitely not shaking from nerves, the autofill feature remains silent. There are no previous messages saved. He doesn’t actually remember the last time he texted Harry.

He doesn’t know what to write, so he goes for the expected.

Artsy, are we? he sends, not expecting any reply. He’s barely pressed Send that a happy little bubble pops up at the bottom of the screen to indicate that Harry’s writing back.

Did you like it?

He should lie.

He cannot.

Yes. he types, then adds, against his better judgement; It’s amazing.

Good.

He doesn’t ask Harry why the fuck his opinion suddenly matters. But he does something much worse.

Are you in town?

His treacherous thumb presses Send before he can stop himself and Louis looks at his phone, horrified, but there is no turning back. He doesn’t even know why he wrote this. He doesn’t even want-

Yes.

It’s like he doesn’t have any control over his fingers. They fly over his screen, while his brain desperately tries to hammer some sense into them, in vain. Louis knows every letter he types is a mistake, but the magazine in his lap is opened on that picture of Harry standing tall and long-haired, his naked torso framed by the lapels of a ridiculous red jacket, and Louis can’t think.

Dyou want to come over?

Harry’s answer takes ages to appear. It’s definitely for the best. Louis doesn’t even know why he asked, doesn’t know what he would do if Harry agreed. They have been strangers for too long now. There is no mending what fame has undone.

The answer pops up just when Louis’s managed to convince himself that he never wanted Harry to say yes.

Come to my place. Easier.

And just like that, Louis’s off.

Keep reading

Okay but consider this:

The Scavengers on the Lost Light.

Now, I could go down the humourous lane, you know, with Skids not wanting to lose face and pretending Misfire really IS is arch-nemesis (and Mifire enjoying that a little too much, though who is that mech anyway? Did he ever get a drink with him?), or Spinister helping out in the medbay (”Don’t shoot that! We need it!” “It’s looking at me funny!”), and all that good stuff.

But let’s be serious for a second: let’s have them come face to face with Megatron.

Grimlock growls at him, because something in his shattered cerebro-cortex reminds him that this one is bad. It takes the whole W.A.P. crew to keep him somewhat calm (ie. just growling and no fire-breathing).

Spinister is confused: there’s something not right with this picture. He’s not sure of a lot of things (that the whole isn’t glaring at him, that the lamps aren’t mocking him), but Megatron being their leader, Megatron being on their side is something he’s sure of! So this…. this isn’t right.

Misfire goes into his usual chatter. Only instead of forming really long sentences, he keeps breaking them, making incoherent strings of words and pointing at their ex-leader’s chest. This is his version of being speechless. And very distressed. For those who know him, it’s super disturbing to see the happy-go-lucky jet this way.

Crankcase’s feelings are so vitriolic, he’s feeling sick. He took the DJD right on because he believed that the badge was his, not theirs. And now more than ever, he’s feeling like he needs to defend that. The normally loud-mouthed mechanic just shakes silently. He does put a hand on Misfire’s shoulder, though. Because.

Fulcrum should be afraid, could be angry, instead he’s bitter. So this is the grand leader he was born under? The one he was told would lead them to greatness and gelactic conquest. The one that led him to full-body restructuration and impending death. The one that led himself into the Autobots’ rank? He’s always accepted the values of his faction -his culture?-, not knowing anything else as he was born under them. And then he took a stand because a bunch of misfits showed him that these values weren’t that theoritical after all. He’s always accepted Megatron’s worth at face value, not having seen him in action back in the days. And then he met him, an Autobot badge wedging a line between them with much more effectiveness than rank or power. The crew he’s part of is worth sacrificing himself for them, this mech is not. The techie grits his denta, glaring down at the floor.

Krok just stares silently. Expression unreadable.

The whole of them are accepted on board, more or less blending in the general craziness. The longer they stay, the more the crew learns about their adventures, their stories… their struggles…. Megatron hears all that. And, one night, as he’s walking down the corridors because he can’t recharge, he ends up at the observation deck. And Krok is there. Looking at the stars, probably trying to figure out where his old unit is.

Megatron approaches him and, awkwardly, asks how the Scavengers are finding themselves.

This is when Krok let’s it rip. He doesn’t pull a gun on Megatron, oh no, he uses on his ex-leader the very same weapons that made him the figurehead of the Decepticons: words.

“My crew are the ones you have never seen, Megatron, the ones you sent off to be killed each day in the name of your revolution. And like so many like them, they went on each time you gave the order. Because they believed in your ideals, they believed in you. No matter what horrors they saw, no matter how insignificant they knew they were to you, in the end your words, the ones that stood against the senate and the low life they had, were enough to make them dive right into battle. For you.

You, the revolutioner with a vision. You, the gladiator with the power. You, the one that left them behind. And now you enquire about these people?

This isn’t just about being left on the battlefield, too. You turned your back on us to what? Atone for your mistakes? Well then, maybe you should start by making up to the ones whose life you changed so drastically. Because the Autobots? They might be the “good guys” from some people’s perspective, but they weren’t counting in you like we did. And everybody seems to be forgetting that fact, you the first, Megatron.

Out there, there is and army of desperate civilians that turned into bloodthirsty soldiers  and they are now left in a daze. There are camps full of walking woundeds whose future are compromised by unrepairable wounds. There are people that you made move as one by sheer belief and then stood up for something better. Or just something “good”, because, apparently, we’re the bad guys and have been fighting eons while knowing full well how wrong we were.

You want to take responsibility, Megatron? Take. It. But all of it.”

Somehow, during his tirade, Krok started facing Megatron, advancing more and more on him until they were nearly chest to chest. Well, chest to faceplate, because Megatron is so big. It’d be almost funny if it wasn’t for the Scavenger’s optics.

Not an ounce of fear in them. Only righteous fury.

And Megatron, who back in the days would have turned him into slag for his insolence, now can only take in just how much he’s truly failed his people.

morethanprinceofcats  asked:

I've been reading your ASOIAF meta all day and really enjoy it, but I just read your post about Bran's assassin being sent by Joffrey - I was under the impression that was a red herring, because Tyrion and Jaime never pieced together that it would be Littlefinger. It would be yet another event that looks like Joffrey's doing but was really LF (Ned's execution being the other) and ofc LF wouldn't tell Sansa he sent an assassin after her brother to help provoke war. How do we know it's Joff?

Because the evidence points to Joff. (see also.) Where Littlefinger comes in is the misdirection, the lies about who had the dagger when.

You see, it was Littlefinger’s dagger that he lost to Robert in a bet on the Jaime-Loras joust at the tourney for Joffrey’s 12th birthday. Almost everyone bet on Jaime, including Littlefinger and Tyrion. The only one who didn’t was Robert:

“Who do you think our champion will be today? Have you seen Mace Tyrell’s boy? The Knight of Flowers, they call him. Now there’s a son any man would be proud to own to. Last tourney, he dumped the Kingslayer on his golden rump, you ought to have seen the look on Cersei’s face. I laughed till my sides hurt.”

—Robert Baratheon, AGOT, Eddard VII (Chapter 30)

…and when Loras upset Jaime, Robert won the Valyrian steel & dragonbone dagger from Littlefinger.

But what Littlefinger told Catelyn was that Tyrion had won the dagger. Which was a straight-up lie, as Tyrion never would bet against Jaime. Which both he and Jaime told Catelyn:

“How did Littlefinger tell you I came by this dagger of his? Answer me that.”
“You won it from him in a wager, during the tourney on Prince Joffrey’s name day.”
“When my brother Jaime was unhorsed by the Knight of Flowers, that was his story, no?”
“It was,” she admitted. A line creased her brow.

[…]

“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted,” Tyrion began, “there is a serious flaw in Littlefinger’s fable. Whatever you may believe of me, Lady Stark, I promise you this—I never bet against my family.”

—AGOT, Tyrion IV (Chapter 31)

“Then why did the assassin have his dagger?”
“What dagger was this?”
“It was so long,” she said, holding her hands apart, “plain, but finely made, with a blade of Valyrian steel and a dragonbone hilt. Your brother won it from Lord Baelish at the tourney on Prince Joffrey’s name day.”
Lannister poured, drank, poured, and stared into his wine cup. “This wine seems to be improving as I drink it. Imagine that. I seem to remember that dagger, now that you describe it. Won it, you say? How?”
“Wagering on you when you tilted against the Knight of Flowers.” Yet when she heard her own words Catelyn knew she had gotten it wrong. “No… was it the other way?”
“Tyrion always backed me in the lists,” Jaime said, “but that day Ser Loras unhorsed me. A mischance, I took the boy too lightly, but no matter. Whatever my brother wagered, he lost… but that dagger did change hands, I recall it now. Robert showed it to me that night at the feast. His Grace loved to salt my wounds, especially when drunk. And when was he not drunk?”
Tyrion Lannister had said much the same thing as they rode through the Mountains of the Moon, Catelyn remembered. She had refused to believe him. Petyr had sworn otherwise, Petyr who had been almost a brother, Petyr who loved her so much he fought a duel for her hand… and yet if Jaime and Tyrion told the same tale, what did that mean? The brothers had not seen each other since departing Winterfell more than a year ago.

—ACOK, Catelyn VII

(Note the sequential chapters in AGOT carving holes in Littlefinger’s story.) So the dagger belonged to Robert, and was in the traveling armory that went to Winterfell. Where it was available for Joffrey to steal and give to the footpad he hired to kill Bran, hoping it would please his father. (As Robert had stated, where his children could hear it, that it would be better if the boy would be put out of his misery.)

And when Tyrion figured it out, he unfortunately said enough to let Joffrey know he had:

“Have a care, Your Grace,” Ser Addam Marbrand warned the king. “Valyrian steel is perilously sharp.”
“I remember.” Joffrey brought Widow’s Wail down in a savage two-handed slice, onto the book that Tyrion had given him. The heavy leather cover parted at a stroke. “Sharp! I told you, I am no stranger to Valyrian steel.”

[…]

“You and Lady Sansa owe me a better present, Uncle Imp. This one is all chopped to pieces.”
Tyrion was staring at his nephew with his mismatched eyes. “Perhaps a knife, sire. To match your sword. A dagger of the same fine Valyrian steel… with a dragonbone hilt, say?”
Joff gave him a sharp look. “You… yes, a dagger to match my sword, good.”

—ASOS, Sansa IV

And note, Littlefinger was in King’s Landing while Robert and family were in Winterfell. If he had somehow heard about Bran, and decided to kill him for whatever reason, he would have used a good assassin, and not armed the man with a dagger that was known to have been his, don’t you think? (Consider Jon Arryn’s poisoning or Joffrey’s poisoning, where nobody suspects Littlefinger in the slightest.)

The red herring in this plot was what Littlefinger said in AGOT to spark the war between Stark and Lannister, that we were supposed to believe that Tyrion (or Jaime or Cersei) sent the assassin. What Jaime and Tyrion figured out in ASOS was the truth. And well, Tyrion’s been kind of too busy lately to remember it was Littlefinger’s lies that caused this whole mess. Might be something he’ll deal with later, we’ll see.

And as for GRRM’s word on the matter:

[Did Littlefinger influence Joffrey to try and kill Bran?]

Well, Littlefinger did have a certain hidden influence over Joff… but he was not at Winterfell, and that needs to be remembered.

forum chat, July 2008

It’s not like she was doing it purely out of curiosity.

(Yeah, right)

When the flowers arrive at the CatCo front desk and Winn has that look in his eye, Kara has a moment of dread before it turns to confusion as she reads the attached note asking her on a date… With no name.

Winn’s smirk turns to wide eyed panic as she stalks over with determination in her step, note in hand.

“Alright Winn, I know you know who sent this,” She stabs a finger at the note. “And you’re going to tell me, right now.”

He looks cornered, both hands up in the universal sign of ‘don’t hurt me’ (like I ever would, she thinks). However, looking fierce does have its benefits and secretly being Supergirl sure adds to that ticket.

To her surprise he doesn’t crack, most likely in part to the fact that James calls him over, citing the need of his ‘computer skills’. He shuffles past her, voicing about a thousand or so sorrys before making his escape.

He’s always been a terrible liar (just like her) and she knows, just KNOWS, he’s aware of who sent the flowers. And possibly why.

She’s grumpy as she finishes out her day in the busy newsroom, and by the time she gets home she’s thoroughly exhausted, collapsing heavily on the couch.

Of course that’s when someone decides to knock on the door.

And of course when she opens the door no one is there.

It’s by pure chance that she looks down before closing the door and sees the white box on the floor outside. With a frown she picks up the box and sees her name written (well, embossed) on the front. She peeks out of the apartment doorway one last time, scanning the hall, looking for any clues, anything to tell her what in the world is going on. Seeing nothing she retreats inside, shutting the door behind her.

She ends up sitting at the table just staring at it. Did she order something? If it weren’t for her name plainly on the front she would assume that it was a wrong delivery. She stares for another minute before telling herself to just open it. Not that she’s curious or anything. (she is.)

Burgundy. A lot of it.

She reaches inside and pulls the deep toned fabric out of the box. Unfolding it she see it’s… a dress?

Laying it out she realizes it’s a cocktail dress, figure-hugging with capped sleeves and geometric cutouts near where she guesses her collarbones would be. It’s brand new, she can tell by the tags still hanging off. Turning one she sees it’s in her size. Her brow furrows.

As she lifts it up to examine it further, a piece of paper flutters down, landing on the tabletop. Handwritten this time, but still not recognizable.

‘DRAGO, 8:30PM’

DRAGO, it’s a pretty upscale restaurant in the financial district, hence the cocktail dress. She warily smiles then ends up frowning. Someone has gone to a whole lot of trouble to ask her out and put this date together and she still has no clue who it is. This may not be such a good idea.

Glancing at the clock she sees the hands read 7:20. She turns back to the dress, debating for a few seconds before grabbing it off the table, heading the to the bathroom. Curiosity - 1, Kara - 0

Nearly an hour later she’s ready, sideswept hair in tight curls, glasses on, and makeup…well, as good as she can get it (she had a fierce battle with a mascara wand).

Looking at the clock again, she jumps at the time, hands reading 8:20 this time. There’s absolutely, impossibly no way she’s going to make it in time.

Unless…

She shakes her head then runs to the window. Sometimes having powers can be useful in normal situations.

Landing in an alleyway near her destination, she does her best to salvage her hair while speed walking to the street.

Her first impression is how modern the place looks. As she stands inside looking around she realises she has no idea who she’s looking for. There’s an older couple talking to the man at the front so she slips past into the dinning area.

Smooth piano music fills her ears as she enters the area. Her eyes scan the chairs, looking for another clue, any sign at all of where she’s supposed to be. Her eyes dart back to the profile of a man sitting down at a table for two. Something about him seems familiar to her but his back is turned.

She walks straight over, touching his shoulder as she walks up and- 

“Mon-El?”

Her mouth drops open a little bit in surprise which, after realising who it is, turns into a smile.

“Kara,” he says as he smiles warmly at her.

She sits down in the empty chair across from him.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” she says, still surprised. “Where’s Miss Tessmacher? Oh no! Am I stealing her seat?”

She cranes her neck, glancing around for the petite blonde she assumes will be making an appearance any moment.

He slightly frowns. “Why would she be here?”

She looks back at him, just as confused now.

“I, just thought- assumed- she was here wit-”

Her eyes glance down and that’s when she notices the Burgundy tie. Burgundy, like her dress.

She’s sure her mouth is completely hanging open this time.

“Oh.”

Now he looks worried.

“Did I do something wrong? The internets-”

“Internet” she blurts out.

He takes a deep breath. “Right. The internet said women on Earth like mystery-”

“Wait, wait-” she gestures.

“-and romance during their dates,” he continues, leaning down behind the chair and grabbing something.

When he sits up and she sees what he’s holding, she immediately stops her wild gesturing.

He holds out to her a flower with a rich orange coloring and deep red flecks.

She knows that kind of flower. She has one just like it at home in her flower planter.

And she remembers another time when a flower was offered, cooking in her apartment, a flushed complexion, and the afternoon sun caressing his face

She wonders if he knows the flowers reminds her of the vast sky of Krypton. Of home.

When she doesn’t take it (she’s wrapped up in it, staring at it) he coughs nervously and continues.

“We were never going to be normal Kara. We’re both outsiders here. I know-” He shuffles, looking almost uncomfortable and she slowly reaches and holds onto the flower he still holding too. “I know I’m not the only one here who misses home.”

She lifts the flower from his hand, drawing it back slowly. He’s looking at her, more raw and vulnerable than she’s ever seen him.

And she remembers another time, a time of hurt, loneliness, and longing for home… and finding comfort in the middle of nowhere with a Daxamite, of all people. Of hands holding, and companionship that runs deep.

In a moment of impulsiveness she reaches out and clasps his hand with hers.

“I meant what I said,” she gives him a small smile. “I never want you to know how I felt, how I still feel sometimes, being alone.” She hopes he can feel how earnest she is.

He gives her a small smile in return. “And when I’m with you I don’t.”

There’s a pause. “I like you Kara,”

“I like you a lot.”

She can hear her heart rate speed up, and it’s like he’s staring into her soul.

He shakes his head smiling. “Which is crazy because we’re not even supposed to like each other.”

“We didn’t, not at first,” she says automatically. His words are not really sinking in yet, and she supposes they should…if he’s saying what she thinks he’s saying. (He is)

Unaware of her inner struggle he softly laughs. “No, I guess we didn’t. But as much as I didn’t like you, I did respect what you were doing. You lost everyone but you found meaning in your life. You showed me that there’s always a way. A better way. You’re showing all of us that.”

She’s shocked. Never has she heard him talk like this. Underneath the party-boy exterior she would never have guessed that there was all of this underneath.

“And honestly, you’re the only one who gets me, and understands how out of place I feel. Out of everyone on this planet, you were the one who found me. And I’m thankful for that.”

The air is charged with something. Something simmering below the surface. She feels it now. And the look on his face is one that she’s sure mirrors her own.

She looks at him again, more closely this time.

She doesn’t see him as a spoiled Daxamite. She sees a man, without a people and without a home. As lonely as she is. Someone who shares in pain and sorrow and understands.

Someone like her.

She never thought all the gifts and note were from him. She had no idea that his feelings for her were anything like this. The moment she figured it out, it was blindsiding.

But here in this moment, after all that’s been said, she realises with a slight shock that she doesn’t mind.

Instead, she feels something. A growing feeling in her chest that she hopes never goes away.

This feels like coming home.

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

Sometimes curiosity gets the better of us, leading us down paths that should never be seen.

Other times, it leads to regrets, broken hearts and what could have been.

But sometimes it leads us through new doors to new beginnings. Or even discovering the true meaning of circumstances around us that we were too blind to see.

And sometimes, it leads two lost souls to connect, mends broken wings, and leads us down a path that we all hope for,

Our happy ending.
♥ I Love Him , He Loves Me Not ♥ (BTS Jungkook) Part Two

*TWO MONTHS LATER *

    " What's she doing here !? " You whisper/shouted 

           " Aish ! ___ could you be a bit more louder ! " Taehyung said  sarcastically 

                 Tonight was movie night and your parents had given you permission to sleep over at the guys house. Let's just say everything was perfectly fine until Minah unnie showed up. You weren't gonna lie you were kinda jealous of Minah. Well not of her but because she basically had Jungkook wrapped around her fingers , But you being the girl you were instead of complaining to Kookie oppa you were over here complaining to V. 

        " Wae ~ ! , no one invited her anyway " You said childishly 

“ Jungkook invited her ” Taehyung said sounding a bit annoyed

  " Jinja- ahh ! why ? " You whined while tugging onto V's arm 

   " She's his girlfriend why wouldn't he invite her " V replied but completely regretting it 

          " What ? " You said a low sad voice 

  " Anio- ___ I'm sorry wait ! " V said 

               After hearing V say that you felt your whole body go numb. You could even hear the shattering pieces of your poor broken heart. You were so hurt that you didn't notice you were crying. How could Minah do this to you she knew you loved jungkook. Jungkook himself knew you liked him. How could they ? You wiped your tears and quickly walked over to the kitchen where Jungkook , Minah , and Namjoon were making popcorn and grabbing some snacks. You felt jealousy hit you as you saw Minah flirtingly punch Jungkook. As soon as they noticed you were there they all turned towards you. 

         " What's wrong honey? " Minah asked fakely 

              At this moment you felt like smacking Minah with the spatula  that sat on the the table. You knew Minah since 1st grade she could act like your sweet , caring , and innocent Noona/Unnie/Dongsaeng , but in reality she was a complete fake gold digging slut. Then it hit you, how could she be dating Kookie oppa and your schools quarterback at the same time ? You ignored that thought and simply smiled at Minah. 

            " I'm fine Unnie , Kookie oppa can I talk to you for a bit " You asked 

    " Omo ~!  wae~! " Jungkook screamed coldly 

          " Please " You begged 

" Fine , whatever i'll be back noona " He informed 


    You and Jungkook headed towards the park that was just around the corner of the guys house. You felt your stomach in a knot as if this very instant you could literally throw up. You decided to was time to confess to Jungkook , something you probably would never do for anyone you liked. Confessing was just a big "No No " for you. You put your hands inside your sweater and secretly crossed your fingers.You gathered up all your courage and took a deep breath and turned to Jungkook. 

     " Jungkook.....I.I..Need to tell you something " You muttered 

“ Well hurry up Minah noona’s waiting for me ” He said harshly

     Hearing Jungkook talk to you like that broke your heart. He was slightly making you a lot less confident. He always talked to everyone in a nice sweet voice , but when it came to you he easily got annoyed. 

    " Jung...I..i'm in love with you, since day one.I'm in love with your sweet voice, your smile,Your cute Busanish accent, just you in general. I know you and Minah are going out but she doesn't really love you , at least not as much as I do , i've fallen for you Jeon Jungkook, I've fallen hard " You said giving him a weak smile 


      " That's it !? You wasted my time by making me come here ..and just to tell me that ! " He scolded 

         " I...what ? " You asked too hurt and confused by his sudden words


          " What ? what ! " He shouted 

              You stood there completely motionless , his words had hit you like a huge slap on the face. At this moment you expected him to love you back and that you would get your happily ever after. This was the sad reality you feared,Rejection. You felt as if all the times you helped,cared,and loved him had been completely useless. 

             " Oh ! c'mon ___ stop crying ! " He hissed  

    You nodded and wiped your tears. You had to be strong. After all he would have never gone out with you , even Taehyung said he like noona's. 

     " I'm sorry Jeon Jungkook , I...promise to never bother you again , I'll stay out of your way , I won't ....I ...won't ever call you kookie or oppa. This is the last time i'll ever cry for you " You assured 

             You took a seat on the bench and watched as Jungkook left. After 15 minutes of crying to yourself you wiped your tears and walked back towards the guys house. You tried looking happy so that V wouldn't notice you had been crying. If Taehyung found out Jungkook had made you cry there would be problems ,and thats the last thing you wanted. Once you entered the house you quickly took the seat next to V. You noticed everyone was so into the movie , they didn't even notice you came back. 

        " what's wrong __ ? " V asked 

                   " Nothing oppa " You said looking away from him 

           Taehyung stood up and pulled you out to the small porch. You kept your head down not wanting to look at him in the eyes. V lifted your head up with his finger and stared into your eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed. He reached out to hug you. You quickly ran over to V and let it all out. 

       " Yah , don't cry what's wrong " Taehyung asked 


              " I'm just an immature little girl " You said giving him a small smile. 

     " Well, eww ! you don't need him anyway , what you need is a cupcake ! " He joked while smashing his half eaten cupcake in your face 

                  You laughed and playfully punched V's arm , but punching this idiot only caused you to get 10 full minutes of Kim Taehyung tickles.  

       " Yah ! stop it " You laughed 

 " I have an idea ! " He said giving you a well known alien smirk. Which by now you knew was a bad idea. Last time V had a "Great Idea" he ended up breaking his arm.  

         " No way ! Kim Taehyung , I'm not trying to get myself killed " You joked 

   " It's the best idea I've ever had ! ___ be my fake girlfriend and together we'll make Jungkook jealous " He suggested while giving you his normal goofy smile.

        " No way V ! , that really will make me seem immature " You explained

               After thirty minutes of V telling you what a great idea it was, and you completely disagreeing ,you finally gave in . Once you and V went back inside to finishing watching the movie. The idiot you called best friend stood in the middle of the T.V blocking the others from watching the movie. 

        " I have something very important to say ! " He hollered 

“ Anio~! oppa oh no ! stop it ” you whispered while trying to pull him away, You tried saying it as quietly as possible but failed. Jungkook had overheard you.

     " Oh no please continue " Jungkook said curiously 

         " Me and __ are dating now ! " V smiled 

 " Thats the very important thing you had to say Hyung ? " He said coldly 


            You and V frowned and took a seat on the couch across from Jungkook and Minah. During the movie you noticed the room had gotten a bit too cold. You remembered you had forgotten your blanket at home.You were so cold you didn't even notice you were hugging yourself, but V from the corner of his eyes noticed and sweetly wrapped his arms around you. 


  *JUNGKOOK'S POV *

                      You had been trying to watch the movie , but you kept looking over at V hyung who had his arms wrapped around ____. You tried doing the same with Minah noona but she just pushed you away saying she was busy texting someone important. You tried multiple times to cuddle with Minah but she simply rejected you. Once the movie was over everyone had left to their rooms to get ready for bed. You shared a room with V hyung.As you walked in the room you saw __ and V kissing. You didn't know how to explain it but it made you somewhat mad. You weren't jealous. Right ? You walked past them and crashed shoulders with Taehyung.You angrily threw him his pillow.  

       " You guys are sleeping on the floor ! " You said sounding a bit annoyed

 Hope You guys like part two !ツ Sorry it took so long :( . Sorry if we haven't done some of the scenarios you requested but we'll have a couple of them done tomorrow, Also Part Three coming soon ! ♥ - Admin A 

Part One –> http://kookieyeol11.tumblr.com/post/98111503750/i-love-him-he-loves-me-not-bts-jungkook-part-one

kekerockinrobin  asked:

Can I request a angst/smut scenario based off the song ' I hate this part right here' by the pussycat dolls where you're married to Taehyung and all you do is fight and he catches having sex with Jin and hears Jin telling you he loves you which sends taetae into a rage pulling Jin off of you in a middle of a kiss and saying a few choice words to him and he wanted to make you forget what Jin did to you happy ending please(I've been watching a LOT of movies and shows like this lately help me 😭)

Oh dear Lord… all this smut…. Anyway, enjoy!~
- Devi *^^*

Originally posted by blvck0cean

[Warning: Explicit Content + Swearing]

i hate this part

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I've thought about this a lot, must have been emotionally wrenching for Kakashi seeing his best friend die a second time and his sensei too, so I thought a headcanon in which he breaks and Sakura finds him and heals him , you know, something like that...

Something was missing, Sakura thought as she scanned the battlefield with sharp but tired eyes. Healing the last one drained the remanent of her energy and now that she finally looked up to study the scenery, something felt wrong.

Genma was passed out on the ground next to her, snoring lightly and looking like a little child if you ignored the blood and the mud.

Next to her Ino was healing Kiba who had a broken arm and severely bruised jaw.

In her direct line of sight was Tenten, staring into space. Sakura always suspected Tenten liked Neji -and even if she didn’t, losing a teammate has got to be the hardest thing ever.

Naruto and Sasuke limped their way back to the crowd, both bleeding heavily, their stumps closed but yet to be properly healed.

It clicked in her mind.

Where’s Kakashi?

Sakura stood up in alarm and swayed lightly on the spot. ‘Ugh, Chakra depletion.’ She thought in misery.

There’s only one place the silver-head would go to right now.

Sakura limped her way to the cenotaph and there, she found him.

But something looked awfully off. The air tasted weird -even his posture looked wrong.

He had a naturally slouched posture but this…this wasn’t the way Kakashi stood.

Because dispute his hunched shoulders and laziness he still held his head up a certain way, with an air of confidence…but now it was tilted down and staring on the ground, his shoulders were stiff and slightly shaking.

“Kakashi…?”

His whole body froze. He didn’t turn around as he replied, “yes?”

Even his voice was too heavy.

“What’s wrong?” She asked and nearly had a heart attack when she heard him sniff quietly and wipe at his face.

“Nothing. Why are you here?”

When he turned around to face her, her heart nearly shattered. He looked so vulnerable, his eyes were red and his mask was gone. Blood and dirt stained his cheeks.

“Kakashi are you crying?” She asked, gobsmacked.

He looked away from her face. “No. Some dirt got in my eyes.”

The clear stains of tears left on his face said otherwise.

And now wasn’t the time to gush over seeing his face either and so she approached him with a quiet sigh and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay to cry. It’s human. You should let it out.”

He was stiff for a few moments before his forehead dropped onto her shoulder and she felt his shaky breathing on her neck.

She tried to contain her shock when she felt little wet droplets on her shoulder and felt his shoulders shake slightly.

Her heart clinched painfully. Kakashi never cried -he must be in a lot of pain to allow himself to, and in front of her!

She held him closely, her hand gently rubbing his back. She didn’t try to offer him comforting words -she wasn’t sure he’ll like that so instead she pressed soft kisses on the side of his face until he calmed down.

He didn’t let go though. “This is embarrassing.”

His voice was so little and weak she nearly cried herself. “I don’t think so.”

He pulled back finally, to roughly wipe at his face before facing her once more. His appearance broke her heart.

“What is it?” She asked him again, gently.

“Ah,” he said taking a weary breath. “It was a little rough to see Obito and sensei die again is all.”

Sakura didn’t think about that. It must’ve been so hard.

She held his hands and squeezed them, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and put on a weak smile, “I’m glad you’re fine at least.”

“I’m fine.” She confirmed. “But I’ll feel better if you’d let me take care of you. Come on, let’s go home.”

He nodded and let her lead him back to the village by the hand. Their homes might be destroyed, but even a tent was home as long as they were together.

anonymous asked:

Juvia exhausted prompt??? -///- Btw I love u

Anon I love you man

Her facial expression was emotionless, the woman was way too tired. Mira recommend a job and that was just everything exhausting, to add on Juvia ended up staying awake all night; now it’s the morning and she has completely lost track of time.

Sitting at the open bar, ordering hot tea like always, she sat there.

“Juvia?” A smiled peeped from the woman who had questionable white hair; sliding the mug towards the frail girl.

The guild is empty, no one else to make any ruckus. It’s just perfect, for her to fall asleep on the counter…but she slid her eyelids up.

“Yes Mira-san.” She grunted, pulling her head up eventually facing the bartender.

“You look pretty tired, did you not sleep well or something?” Being a concerned person, Juvia answered trying to pull herself together.

“Juvia is alright.” Third person was almost too much words, but she carried on sipping her tea.

“I see,-” Before Mirajane could say anymore, attention was switched to the guild doors that opened and here approached team Natsu.

The riot of their laughs caught the sleepy woman off guard as she jolted from her position; leading to some injuries when her hot tea scarred her hand.

“Ah, Juvia your hand!”

In only half opened eyes she smiled.

“It’s fine, just fine.” Assuring the woman poorly, the pain wasn’t enough to bother her. She didn’t even look back at the guild members as they multiplied, not even her Gray-sama. It may have just slipped her mind.

As for Lucy and Gray, they couldn’t stop staring at the blunette’s back.

“Gray, what did you do?”

“What?”

Nastu and Erza fighting as usual, while Gajeel, Lily, and Levy were chatting- but Juvia leaned down sitting at the bar…alone? It wasn’t even raining, so she’s not depressed.

“Juvia would be Gray-sa~ma~!-ing right now, the hell did you do to the poor girl.”

Overprotective much? Lucy and Juvia were really close after all, she couldn’t help but feel concerned.

“I didn’t do shit, but it is pretty weird.”

“Go talk to her, this is scaring me.”

All the friends of the blonde and couldn’t help but eavesdrop, wondering the same thing when really thinking about it.

“You go, I can’t do your stupid girly talks.”

Arguing back and forth on who should go talk to the troubled girl, she was already on her way waving at Mira-chan with a job in her hand.

“She’s?”

“Leaving?”

Lucy finished Gray’s supposed sentence in awe.

-

Walking to her job exhausted, and doing it exhausted; she got a few cuts. Her leg being bruised a bit, but she handled the job with ease. What was really hurting her, is the burnt wrist today’s morning brought. Walking and stumbling she found herself passing right by the hottie Gray Fullbuster.
No Gray-sama tonight, hell the rain lady couldn’t even think right let alone notice someone she walked right past, though the young man didn’t let that go.

She just walked past me?! No she didn’t even look at me?!

Grabbing the sleep deprived woman’s arm pulling and turning her body to face him, her eyes slowly looked up.

“A…ah Gray-sama.” She meant to sound surprised, but it turned out to be a little dull.

“Yo, what’s wrong you haven’t talked to me all day?!”

Those azure eyes closed yet still pulling her dorky lips up to reveal a cute silly smile.

“Ha, Gray-sama is worried about Juvia.”

“It’s not like that.”

His eyes examined her curvy body once more, blue hair a little messy, some bruises here and there but that wrist is painful looking at.

Mira did say she was falling asleep, yet she went on a mission without anyone accompanying her?

“How did you get that?” Pointing at the obvious burn, she signaled her hands in a wavy motion-

“Ah, it’s fine- just a little spill of tea.”

Gray sighed, this was one of his bestfriends after all; hell she even lived with him.

“Lemme see it.”

Juvia opened her eyes just enough to see the handsome hunk in front of her, worried.

“It really doesn’t hurt at al-ow.” Of course he proved the water Mage wrong, using his ice to cool her burn.

“See? Small little burn my ass.”

The pain pinched her awake, but being up for 48 hours made her eyes close; this time she can’t open them.

“Oi? Juvia?”

Expecting to fall on top of Gray, unfortunately that wasn’t the case as cerulean hair hit her own coral cheeks. Falling backwards, Gray being Gray catching her was no problem.

“Are you kidding me?!”

No response from the sleeping beauty.

“Just how tired are you?!”

-

She’s a lot lighter than I expected.

“Gray-swama.”

Her cheeks smudged on the ice mage’s sharp shoulders, carrying her to the house that she bought saving her money. Using an ice key to open her door, he concerned himself how easy it is to break into her house. The scent of rain filled her bedroom, gently laying her down and taking off those long boots.

“Go back to sleep.”

Juvia’s eyes fell like the sky was falling down. Dead asleep.

“Idiot.”