and the numerical count is way off

Stubborn And Jealous (Damon Salvatore Imagine)

Originally posted by trechos-of-books

PLOT: You’re friends with Stefan and dating Damon. Damon gets a little too jealous.
Word count: 978
Warnings: Swearing

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“Well what would you have me do?”

“NOT THAT STEFAN!” You replied, getting out of his car and walking to the front door.

“There was no way in hell I was just going to sit there and listen to that scandal known as copyright!”

You huffed. This conversation had already been repeated on numerous occasions.

“Stefan, the 1975 are a unique band that have changed the world of music,” you stated sassily, wandering straight into the Salvatore Boarding House.

“Y/N, they’re just rip offs from a band that was back in the 70s and believe me, I was there, I know,” Stefan defended himself, closing the door behind you both and walking over to the glass cabinet and pulling out two tumblers.

You scoffed, “Well you didn’t need to yell at Matt to change the radio in front of the whole Grill! I wouldn’t be surprised if you were banned for life, and for you, that’s a long-time buddy,” you told him patronisingly, patting his chest.

He handed you a glass of Bourbon.

“I’m not going to apologise for my actions. The lead singer looks like a wet dog.”

Anger flooded through your blood. “Take that back Stefan Salvatore.”

He just laughed at you. However, you were feeling a little different towards the matter – defensive.

“Matty Healy is a living, breathing, walking, talking, goddamn SEX GOD! DO YOU UNDERSATND ME?” You yelled back at him, taking a step closer every time. Stefan wasn’t takin your petty little threat and burst out laughing. Little did he know, this enraged you even further.

Compressing your feelings until you had safely put your glass of Bourbon down on the table, you picked up the nearest cushion and started to attack him.

“Ow! Jesus-Y/N stop!” Stefan cowered behind his hands, trying to protect his face.



“THEN BYE-BYE PRETTY BOY!” You announced and carried on hitting him aggressively. You knew inside that you were probably taking it a little too far, but it didn’t matter.

At the end of the day, you were still best friends. You carried on hitting him until he fell to the floor, where you clambered on top of him and held his arms down to stop lashing out.

“Well,” a deep voice came from the doorway, “Sorry to interrupt.”

You looked up to the voice to see your boyfriend Damon, but he wasn’t happy. Instead, he looked at the position that you and Stefan had ended up in – you were straddling him. You got off Stefan, who was shooting you an apologetic look and walked over to Damon.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” you started to stand up for yourself.

Damon just looked down at you, “Sure it wasn’t.”

And with that he walked up stairs, ending the conversation.

You turned back to Stefan as if to say ‘what should I do?’ and he nodded towards the stair case, giving you a small smile in return.

Taking two steps each time, you walked straight into Damon’s room, where he was just lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong Damon?” You asked, making your way over to him. But before you could, he stood up and looked at you angrily.

“You and Stefan. It’s always you and Stefan. I rang you six times to meet today, but no, you were with STEFAN! Are you getting my point?” He spoke down to you like a small child, the sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Damon,” you smirked, finally understanding what was going on, “Are you…jealous?”

He scoffed, “Jealous? No. I just don’t want my girlfriend to be hanging around my brother all the time.”

You started to laugh, “Oh my god, you are totally jealous!”

“AM NOT!” He yelled back.

“Yes, you are! You’re also stubborn.”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” He shouted again, but he was only angry because he was getting caught out.

You decided to make him prove it. An idea struck your mind and you were feeling evil.

“Oh, ok then,” you acted, making it seem like you were giving up. But you were far from it.

Right then and there, you took off your shirt, revealing your new lacy bra.
Damon’s eyes lit up as he saw what you had done, and his classic smirk plastered on his face. Before he could say anything, you headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Damon asked, confused at why you would strip and walk.

“To see Stefan,” you replied simply.

Suddenly, a whoosh of cold air rushed past your face and Damon appeared in front of you, slamming the door shut.

“FINE!” He gave up, throwing his hands up in despair, “I am jealous! Happy now?”

You took his face in your hands, making him look directly into your eyes and you smiled.

“Damon Salvatore, I love you. Not Stefan, you. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Ok? Just accept that and stop being a paranoid boyfriend!” You told him truthfully.

Damon’s eyes softened as he took in the words. Passionately, he connected your lips and kissed you. Fireworks went off inside you like time-bombs, just waiting for the right moment to explode and make you truly happy. Eventually, he pulled away and brought you into his arms, his hands moving over your hair.

“God, I love you Y/N,” he whispered in your ear.

“I love you too Damon.”

anonymous asked:

Naruto is unhappy in his relationship with Hinata and would much better off with sasuke you people just don't want to admit it to yourselves.

Hmmmm wrong, and no amount of screenshoting​ Naruto from episodes where he is clearly tired out from work will help your statement. Actually, if you’re going to screenshot anything go ahead and screenshot his family photos because he looks pretty happy to me. Jeez

And better off with Sasuke? Pls, if their bond was meant to have a romantic development we would have seen it by now don’t you think? Their friendship has been emphasized more times than I can count. If you couldn’t acknowledge the numerous statements of them acknowledging each other as such, then I’m just wasting my time explaining this to you. And it’s not like their relationship is downplayed in any way because they ended up staying eachothers best friends like wtf.

Go ahead and ship what you want absolutely no one is stopping you. But pls don’t send me these kind of shit messages complaining about other people who “don’t want to admit” they are wrong because you like to pick and choose scenarios from the show to label Naruto and Hinata as an unhappy couple that shouldn’t be together.

Title: Grey
Word Count: 1.8k
Pairing: Doctor (Twelve) x Rose
Summary: The Doctor drops Clara home for a little R&R. The place is right, but the timing is way off. Little does he know, it’s 2006, and Rose Tyler is awaiting pick-up after a visit with her mother. This is one visitor the Doctor did not expect. 

“Right, there we are.” The Doctor rests his hands on one of the numerous levers the TARDIS has, and rests his weight against the console.

“Sure it’s the right place this time?” Clara asks, sauntering up to him, a mischievous smile on her face.

“We’ll it’s certainly not Glasgow.”

“Or?” she prompts, in her best teacher-voice, but largely unable to keep the amused smile off her face.

“Or Dublin, or Bristol, or Birmingham,” he finishes begrudgingly. “The universe is a big place, you know. Forgive me if I miss occasionally by a few miles.”

“Try a few hundred.”

“Look,” he says pointedly, tilting the monitor so she can see outside the TARDIS. “Right outside your flat building and everything.”

She’d asked to be dropped off on a Saturday this time – two days of good old fashioned rest and recovery should be enough to recharge her batteries for another alien adventure.

Clara nods and purses her lips, with raised eyebrows to look impressed. “Looks about right. That looks like a new playground, though.” She points to the screen. “Otherwise, same old, same old. I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

He nods, and watches her go. This whole pickup/drop-off system is new to him, but he’ll get used to it. He misses having someone around all the time, someone to hear his incessant ramblings – or, get up in the middle of the (artificial) night to tell him to shut up. But it’s fine, mostly. A little lonely, but fine.

It occurs to him that he now has time to fix whatever’s making the TARDIS’s aim so off, and quickly clambers underneath the console to examine it. He holds the sonic screwdriver between his teeth as he fiddles with wires and circuits and all manner of other, very complicated scientific things.

He hears the door opening, and assumes it’s just Clara, having left something behind.

“What’d you forget?” he calls, though it’s mostly indecipherable with the sonic screwdriver still stuck between his lips.

“Been redecorating?” a voice asks. It doesn’t sound like Clara.


“Who are you?!” a startled voice says, now directly behind him. He jumps, trying to stand up and whacking his head on the underside of the console. “What’re you doin’ in the TARDIS?” It’s a she, the voice.

“I think the better question is,” he starts off as he begins awkwardly trying to stand up without colliding with something again. “What are you doing in the – ”

He stops dead.

He grips the metal now behind him for support, knuckles white, the sonic screwdriver clambering to the floor.

He knows the voice that is demanding answers of him. He spent countless sleepless nights listening to it ask him questions about the universe’s vast expansiveness, and heard its ringing laugher at even the worst of his jokes. He knows the lips that are twisted into a grimace before him – oh, how he wishes he had known them better. The blonde hair, the bright eyes, and the fire. He knows them all.

Rose Tyler is standing in front of him.

“I—I don’t understand,” he stammers.

“What, that one a bit too complicated for you there, mate?”

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” he repeats, sounding increasingly distraught.

“What’re you doing in the TARDIS?”

“I don’t – what year is it?”

“Answer me!”

You answer me!” the Doctor snaps, letting his aptness for bickering get the better of him.

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second!”

“Blimey, you don’t make it easy, do you?”

He pauses, and scratches his head. “I s’pose not, no. I get that a lot actually.”

Her frown melts away like that, and something clicks. Frustration and hostility become curiosity and wonder. “Doctor?”

Mid-exhalation, his breath catches in his throat, because oh, it’s been so long since he has heard her say that. He feels the sting of approaching tears in his eyes.

“Rose Tyler,” he replies, hardly more than a whisper.

“’s 2006. You dropped me off to see my mum two days ago. Well not you, you. My you. Erm…my – my Doctor.”

“Your Doctor indeed.”

“S’pose that wasn’t two days ago for you, then.” She says it so casually, and he is totally baffled for a second. And then he remembers. It has been two days for her. That’s all, just two days. 48 hours. For him, it’s been lifetimes. Multiple lifetimes.

He’s not a hugging person, this version of him. But he doesn’t care. In an instant, his strong arms wrap around her middle, pulling her close to him. She gasps in surprise, but quickly melts into him, and it makes his hearts soar. And he would be perfectly happy to remain like this forever.

“You’re real,” he whispers into her hair. “You’re real.”

She pulls away, but not fully; his hands still encircle her forearms. “’Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He avoids her gaze, staring at the console.

“Doctor,” she presses. “How long has it been, for you?”

The answer falls from him before he can stop it. “Oh, I’ve lost count of the years. Must have been centuries, now.”

Her heart rate speeds, and she wonders what could have happened to tear them apart, but she reconsiders: humans grow old and die, he said it himself. Maybe that’s what happened to her. Maybe.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she jokes instead, reaching out and touching his face. His eyes flutter shut when her skin meets his – not from pleasure, but from the desire to absorb the memory as clearly as possible. “You’ve gotten old. You’ve got…lines. And you’re all…grey.” She fingers a grey curl and smiles, if a little sadly. Her digits trace the lines etched by time into his skin. “Never thought I’d see you go grey before me. Mum started really early – been bleachin’ ‘em for years, she has.”

He laughs at the thought of Jackie. And then he feels sad, because he never did see her go grey. He never saw her youthful face grow withered with time. Maybe it’s for the better, he tries to tell himself – it might help him remember her in a certain way. But it’s no use, the thought alone only tells him that he was robbed of time with her. He only hopes his metacrisis double is seeing it all play out.

“Still just as handsome, mind you.”

There’s a silence, and they’re all wrapped up in each other, his hands still on her arms, and hers still resting on his cheeks. And his eyes are the same. Old or young, he carries the same weight around with him, the same shadow of regret and of things long lost. It had always been what made her know that, no matter how young he appeared on the outside, he was not a young man. This new face, to her, carries a truth with it. A face weathered as the universe itself is weathered. But a beautiful one all the same, because stars still shine, and things move on.

“Doctor, can I ask you something?” she asks, after a long time, taking a step back.



“I know what you’re going to ask me.”

“You can’t predict the future that well,” she teases.

He sighs. “Very well, ask away. But no promises.”

She sucks in her lips, forming a straight, thin line with her mouth. “So how come you’re a Scot now?”

He smiles, and then delivers her a proper answer, because she deserves that if nothing else. “I don’t know…it sort’ve just came out that way.”

“Out of what?” she asks, confused.

“Out of a dinosaur, actually.”


“Never mind.”

She seems satisfied, but he can’t help thinking she isn’t done.



“That’s not really what you wanted to ask me, is it?”

She looks guilty. “No.”

“Well, there’s no point in neither of us knowing, now, is there?”

She smiles. “Do I –”

“I’m not talking about your future. Fixed timelines…complicated stuff, Rose.”

“You can answer this one.”

“No, I can’t, I really can’t! You wouldn’t under—”

“Do I ever tell you?” she spits out before he can stop her. It hangs in the air for a while before he says anything at all.

“Tell me? Tell me what?”

Her gaze falls to his lips, and then back to his eyes. He knows what she means.

“Oh.” He straightens his suit self-consciously. “Yes. Yes, you…uh, tell me.”


“And what?”

She almost laughs, it’s so absurd. “Do you tell me back?”

He feels a pang of guilt, and obviously it’s clear that he does because her face falls.

“Rose, it’s not –”

“What happened?”

“I shouldn’t tell you.”

Please, Doctor. For me.”

And of course he can’t resist her asking. Of course it’s everything he ought to do, after how he left things. Or, how he was going to leave things, depending on whose perspective is examined.

“All of time and space…” he whispers, his voice failing him. “And time ran out.”

A thousand questions flood her head, but she says nothing. She will find out when it is time. And, if she’s learned nothing else, the future can always be changed. But this is his future, and his present.

“So who’s Clara?”

His eyes go wide. “Blimey – Clara! She’s eight years away from home! We’ve gotta go find her, we’ve – ” They’re almost halfway out the door before he realises he’s grabbed her hand to take her with him. He looks apologetic. “Old habits, I suppose.”

“Very old habits.”

And all of a sudden he is sad again, because she is there and he can’t take her with him and the door is the next place she will inevitably go.

“I better be getting back before my Doctor comes back and finds me missing.”

He nods, not able to manage much else. Goodbye the first time was hard enough. And the second. Third time’s the charm, they say. The carefree teenager on New Year’s Eve hurt every bit as much.

“Do me a favour,” he finally says, “and don’t tell past me what happened. Last thing I need is to accidentally create a paradox.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “See you later.”

“Not ‘goodbye’?” he questions.

“You hate goodbyes.”

“Wonder why,” he remarks drily. But he pulls her close again, and ever so gently kisses her forehead. He knows it can’t be more than that – this is a stranger’s face to her.

She opens the TARDIS’s rickety door and looks back over her shoulder before stepping out into the world.

“Rose?” he calls. “Just for future reference, even though I didn’t get to tell you – ”

“Doctor, it’s okay, really.”

“But I did, Rose. I…I do.”

She grins, and in her youthfulness, she turns, and runs towards the estate, back to her Doctor, her TARDIS, and the destiny that awaits her. And he does. Oh, how he does. How he hopes she knows that when the time comes – and when it runs out. 

Summers in New York- Bucky Barnes X Reader

Prompt: While spending the summer with your uncle Tony, you and Bucky become quite close.

Word count: 2181

Warnings: None

A/n: I’m starting school tomorrow so I won’t be writing as much, sorry! And requests would be very much appreciated!

“I still don’t understand why my mother made me come all the way to New York to spend the summer with you,” you joked as you sat in Tony’s lab, fiddling with some gadgets on his table while he tinkered away on one of his numerous suits.

“Because I’m your coolest uncle,” Tony argued.

“You’re my only uncle,” You pointed out.

“Yeah whatever, you’ll thank me one day,” He replied as sparks flew off his suit, followed by a string of curse words. Tony wasn’t really your uncle, your mother was sister to Pepper Potts, and Tony was basically her husband so you called him your uncle. Plus, you were really close, you had spent the last four summers with him, and you loved every second of it.

“Can I use this,” You asked, pointing to coils emitting blue tendrils of light.

“Do you want to die?” Tony responded. You pulled your hand away, picking up the mini arc reactor you had been playing with earlier. Just then, Bucky strode into the lab, his metal arm whirring and whining.

“Hey Tony, can you help me, I think something’s wrong with my arm,” Bucky observed, flopping it around wildly.  

“No kidding,” Tony whispered as he pulled Bucky’s arm closer to him.

“Up,” Tony commanded as he motioned for Bucky to hop onto the table next to you. He hopped up, offering you a small smile.

“Hey [Y/n],” Bucky greeted as Tony scurried off to find the supplied necessary to fix him.

“Hiya Buck, how’s a-goin?” You asked.

“Oh not much, ya know, Steve just punched me so hard that he shorted out my arm, no big deal,” Bucky dismissed.

“Why did he punch you?” You asked.

“Oh uh we- ah- well I… It’s a long story,” Bucky stuttered as he looked down at his dangling legs, swinging them back and forth lightly.

*Flashback to thirty minutes ago*

“Hey Buck, what’s up,” Steve asked as Bucky leaned against the counter in the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair, and sighing loudly, obviously frustrated.

“Oh uh nothing,” Bucky dismissed, peeling away from the counter, trying to avoid Steve’s pointed gaze.

“C’mon Buck, I know something’s up, tell me,” Steve prodded.

“I don’t think you-

“Just tell me,” Steve poked.

“Fine… Ya know [Y/n]?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah… Tony’s niece. She’s like a sister to me, I’ve known her since she was little, why, what’s wrong with her is she ok?” Steve asked, worry evident in his taut voice. Steve was very protective of you, ever since he had met you, since you had no other siblings he took over the role as protective older brother. Steve took his job very seriously.

“No, nothing’s wrong,”

“Then what about her,”

“I was, well I was kind of maybe thinking of asking her out on a date, maybe? Cause I’ve liked her for a long time, and I kinda even think I might be in love with her, she’s just so beautiful and witty and intelligent-”

“No,” Steve decided, cutting off Bucky’s ramble.

“What why not, you know I would never hurt her, Steve,” Bucky argued.

“Wait, did you say you loved her? How long has this been going on?,” Steve asked.

“Uh, since last summer when she came to visit, and yeah, I think I love her,” Bucky admitted.

“And you never told me?”

“It didn’t seem important,” Bucky muttered, shrugging his shoulders. Steve looked at Bucky, his features frozen in thought.

“Fine, but if you hurt her in any way,” Steve warned.

“Don’t worry Stevie, there will only be one reason she would ever scream my name, if you know what I mean,” Bucky joked, wiggling his eyebrows. Steve clenched his jaw and slugged Bucky in the arm, sending him staggering backwards. His arm let off a horrible mechanical screech and then hung limp at Bucky’s side, the dead weight causing him to lean slightly

“Please don’t ever make a gross comment like that about [Y/n] again, or I will punch you harder,” Steve informed as he guided Bucky to Tony’s lab.

“Noted,” Bucky wheezed as the arrived at Tony’s lab.


You looked at Bucky on the table, Tony sautering away on his arm.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, leaning over him slightly to see what was happening on his left side.

“No, not really,” Bucky replied.

“So how did you short this out?” Tony asked.

“Steve punched me,” Bucky told Tony.

“Why?” Tony prodded.

“Not important,” Bucky diverted. You looked on as Tony worked, with Bucky distracted by his arm, you were free to stare all you wanted. You had to admit to yourself, Bucky was hot. You had thought this since you first arrived this summer, about three weeks ago. And since then, feelings for him had hit you like a truck. And you had mentioned it to Steve and Tony, but neither of them did not seem to keen on the idea, sometimes those men were too protective of you for your own good.

“[Y/n]?” Bucky voice rang out, breaking you from your daydream.

“Huh, what?” You stuttered.

“Uh, never mind,” He decided, glancing between you and Tony.

“Ok, as fun as this is, I’m gonna go watch a movie,” You announced, hopping from the table and heading out the door.

“Bye Tony, bye Buck,” You shouted as you strode down the hall toward the living room.

“Absolutely not,” Tony mused as he searched through the mess on the table for the tool he needed.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“I said there is no way you are gonna go out with her,” Tony clarified.

“But I never-

“You didn’t have to, your look said it all,” Tony noticed.

“Steve said the same thing,” Bucky whispered.

“That’s why he punched me,”

“I don’t blame him,” Tony agreed. Silence hung in the air, the only sound in the room the crackling of sparks and the rock music turned down really low on the speakers.

“Why not?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet.

“Because… because I said so, and i’m her uncle, so my word goes. What if you hurt her?” Tony brought up, looking at Bucky through his tinted goggles.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, hurt slicing through his tone.

“You’re still a little unstable, and we still don’t know how to make sure no one can turn you into the Winter Soldier. And that arm could seriously hurt someone, even if you don’t want to hurt her you still could, it’s done enough damage already. I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Tony explained. Bucky’s rib cage collapsed, all the air leaked from his lungs, his heart exploded into a million pieces.

“But I’ve gotten so much better i-I’ve made so much progress, I’ve healed. I’m not him anymore, and I never will be again, I can take care of her, I’m better,” Bucky defended.

“Yeah well not better enough, you’re still dangerous,” Tony continued.

“Well if that’s what you think than, fine,” Bucky spat, hopping off the counter and rushing out the door, angry words falling from his lips.

“Barnes wait…” Tony called, but Bucky was already gone.

Bucky stormed through the living room, his pace quick and determined.

“Hey Bucky,” You chirped. You got no response, he ignored you and got into the elevator, angrily pressing the button.

“Ok…” You whispered, getting up off the couch. You made your way back to Tony’s lab, bursting through the door.

“What did you do to Bucky?” You demanded.

“Nothing, why?” Tony lied

“He seemed really mad when he left the tower, and he was just with you so I assume you probably said something offensive,” you observed.

“Me, offensive? Never,” Tony chuckled.

“No, me and Barnes were talking about making some upgrades to his arm and he got… angry,” Tony implied.

“We both know that’s bull,” you argued.

“Would you be a dear and go for a coffee run? I’m beat and could really go for a chai tea right now,” Tony announced, changing the subject. You looked at him, your features turned down in a scowl.

“Fine, but only because I want coffee too,” You decided. You noted what Tony wanted and headed from the lab and out into the hall. On your way out of the tower you ran into Steve.

“Hey Steve, I’m going on a coffee run, do you want anything?” you asked. Steve thought for a moment.

“Sure, can you get me an iced coffee?” Steve asked, shoving a five dollar bill in your hand.

“Oh I don-

“Just take it for my coffee,” Steve demanded, and before you could tell him you didn’t need it he walked down the hall.

You walked down the street, enjoying the sun peeking over the skyscrapers and the sounds of the city. You arrived at the coffee shop, getting in line, trying to remember what everyone wanted. Once you got up to the front, you placed your order and sat down to wait. After a few minutes, your name was called and you went up to retrieve your tray of drinks. As you balanced all three drinks, your phone, and your bag, the man standing directly behind you went unnoticed. You turned around and ran smack into him, spilling both hot and cold drinks over the two of you.

“Oh crap, sorry, oh let me help you… [Y/n]?” The man asked. You looked up from the mess on the floor to meet the piercing gaze of none other than Bucky. His steely blue eyes flitted over yours, emotions you couldn’t place swirling over his irises.

“Hey I was wondering where you had gone in such a rush,” You commented. Bucky kept wiping the floor, not meeting your gaze. Once the mess was cleaned up off the floor you both stood up.

“Oh your shirt,” Bucky whispered, dabbing your chest lightly. Your cheeks flared up in red, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“Bucky it’s fine, really,” You assured, shooing him away.

“Um actually, I have to go- uh bye,” Bucky stuttered, looking like he was suddenly remembering something. He turned on his heel and left, pushing the door open and emerging into the busy street of bustling bodies and loud noises.

“Wait Bucky,” You called, maneuvering through the crowded street to catch up to him. When you were finally in stride with him you spoke.

“Are you ok?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Uh yeah fine,” he replied, his gaze falling everywhere but on you.

“Really, cause it doesn’t seem like it,” You pointed out.

“Did my uncle say something to you?” You asked, bumping your shoulders together as you walked along.   

“No,” Bucky defended.

“Buck, please tell me what’s wrong, please, I can help you. I want to help you,” You pleaded.

“You can’t help me,” Bucky spit.

“Why not,”
“Because I’m dangerous, if you get to close, I will hurt you, everybody thinks so, and so do I,” Bucky muttered, his words harsh, but quiet.

“What? Is that what Tony told you?” You asked. Bucky nodded, his lip tucked under his bottom teeth.

“Steve thinks so too,” He added.

“And you think it’s true? That you could ever hurt me? You know that’s not true, you are the kindest, most gentle person I know, you would never hurt someone on purpose,” You explained.

“But wha-

“No, you will never hurt me, because you are healed, and you will be ok, we will be ok,” You finished, lacing your fingers together with his, squeezing lightly. He gently squeezed back, smiling down at you. For a few minutes you walked in silence, enjoying the warm summer day at your hands snugly wrapped around one another’s.

“[Y/n] would you like to go out with me?” Bucky asked. Surprise caught in your throat, you hadn’t thought Bucky would come around so soon. You walked a few more paces, surprise silencing you.

“Oh god, sorry, that was a bit abrupt, sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,”

“Buck, I’d love to,” You decided as you arrived back at the tower, catching the elevator up.

“Good,” Bucky whispered as he pulled you in for a quick kiss. As soon as your lips met, the elevator dinged and the doors parted.

“[Y/n] WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT DATING MASTER ASSASSINS?!” Tony barked as he saw you and Bucky in the elevator.

“TO NOT TO,” You responded before pressing your lips back to Bucky’s. You pulled Bucky from the elevator and off to the living room. There you saw Steve on the couch.

“So you finally did it huh? Steve asked.


“If you hurt her, I will beat you senseless,” Steve warned, never looking up from his book.

“Noted,” Bucky gulped as you led him down the hall, giggling all the way. You came back around to the kitchen, leaning against the counter, Bucky pinning you there, smashing his lips to yours. This was turning out to be one of the best summer visits yet




Other Imagines By Me

One Way Love

↳ Despite seeming like a playboy he’s actually never had any sex before. So after confessing to you, you decide to help with the predicament.

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Yoongi | Reader

Word Count: 1,851

You looked at Yoongi unsure if you heard his words correctly. He laughed awkwardly scratching the back of his neck,”I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I mean I’m not a likable guy plus you probably only think of me as a friend.” 

You weren’t sure if he was playing a prank on you or not. He confessed to you all of a sudden while arguing about who hogs the couch more. “For fucks sakes, Y/N stop looking at me like that,”his face became a light pink shade. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Victor teaching his s/o how to ice skate scenario?? 030

“Viktor, no…!” You giggled nervously, clutching at the railings of the ice rink.

Several years from this day, when Viktor was first asking you out, he had asked you to promise him something.
“Y/N, I love you more than anything. But if this relationship lasts for as long as I hope,” (”How long do you hope it lasts, Viktor?” “Forever”) “I need you to promise me something.”

Viktor kissed your knuckles, and glanced up at you, smiling tenderly, causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. Your heart was pitter-pattering like a madman, and looking back now, you could say, with great certainty, that at the time you would have promised him anything. You both were helplessly and ridiculously in love.

“Of course.” You replied, though you looked at him with rather wary eyes.

HIs thumbs gently ran over your knuckles, and he chuckled.

“You’ll let me teach you how to ice skate. No one else but me.”

However, you hadn’t been expecting that. Blinking owlishly, you just giggled, and nodded.

“Of course, silly. I promise.”

“Viktor, no, I’ll fall!”

And so, here you were.Gripping the railing for dear life, balancing on the ice with wobbly knees, and facing an eager Viktor, with his hands reaching towards you. Not only that, but you were also being faced with crushed confidence, especially everytime a child no taller than your waist would whizz by, giggling. You could feel your cheeks heating up, and it seemed like the whole public ice rink had their eyes on you and how silly you looked, like a new-born fawn.

“I shouldn’t have promised to this,” You groaned, leaning away from your boyfriend, “This was a terrible idea.”

Viktor planted one hand on his hip, while the other raised and he pointed his finger expertly. 
“Ah, but you’ve already promised, flower. Come on, it isn’t so hard!”

“Says the professional skater champion, with who knows how many competitions you’ve won,” You shot back, glaring at him. 
“Just five, if you don’t count those numerous European championships.” Viktor replied automatically, earning a raised eyebrow from you. He smiled cheerfully, though it carried a sheepish tone to it, “Sorry~.”

“Yes, well, Mister I-won-5-Grand-Prix-Finals, I’m not exactly skater material. It was awfully silly of me to promise this,” You mumbled, inching your way to the rink’s exit, never keeping your hands off the railing. 
“Oh, please, flower, you promised! You wouldn’t break my heart like this, would you?” Viktor whined, pushing off the ice and moving in front of you, blocking your way. You huffed, and did your best to avoid his tearful face. But no matter which direction you moved your gaze, he followed.

You sighed, and your shoulders slumped. Viktor’s face lit up, victorious, and held his hands out in front of him, waiting for yours that fit so well with his. Like puzzle pieces destined for each other. (”No, I just chiselled away at my hands until I was sure they would fit with yours, flower.” Viktor had said once. You had stuck your tongue out at him, “I like destiny a bit more. It’s romantic that way.”) 

Staring at his outstretched hands, you pried one of yours from the railing. Noticing your hesitant movements, your boyfriend’s face softened.

“What are you afraid of, flower? Falling? You know I’ll catch you. I’ll never let you go. You won’t fall with me here.”
You shook your head defiantly, “No, it’s not that! I know you will. I know.”

He tilted his head, his smile never-fading, but carrying curiosity now. 

“Then what is it, Y/N?”

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it again, your features twisting with complex emotions. 
“What if…” You began, “What if… I’m not good enough? What if I… embarrass myself? I’m skating with not only one of the best skaters in the world, but my boyfriend. I’ll… I dont… want to look silly. I’ll simply die. I’ll die with embarrassment.” You heard Viktor laugh breathlessly, and you glared up at him, “I’ll die!” You repeated certainly. 

Gently, Viktor took your hand that you had released from the railing, and held it tightly. You watched, as he raised it to his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. A blush rose onto your cheeks, and he glanced up at you, an almost cheeky smile tugging at his lips.

“I have seen you at your silliest, Y/N. Do you remember our third date? Where I took you to the amusement park? You ate a bit too much, and when we were on the ferris wheel, looking out over a sea of lights and colors, you threw up in my lap.”

You weren’t expecting that. At the thought of the memory, your cheeks lit up in embarrassment, and your mouth opened in shock. Viktor slid back.

“And then Valentine’s Day, our fifth one. You gave me expired chocolates by mistake, and I ended up sick to death the next day!” He continued. Now your coat seemed unnecessary, you were practically ablaze with distress. He stepped back again.

“Let’s not forget when you insisted you were fine, when you were very clearly sick. That was on your birthday, I think. We were having a fine time watching movies, and then after I gave you a lovely kiss on the cheek, you sneezed on my face! Two days later I caught your cold.” 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You cried out at last, anger causing the heat to rise. Viktor tilted his head.

“Are you? You seem to be skating just fine.”

Stunned into silence, you looked around to what was going on. Completely distracted by the humiliating things Viktor had been listing off, he had slowly dragged you away from the railing, and was now carefully skating backwards, pulling you with him. You had been unconciously stepping with him, and now it dawned on you what he was doing.

“I bet you don’t feel like dying from embarrassment at all, now.” Viktor exclaimed, his chest puffed with triumph. You did your very best to glare at him, and you tried very hard to stay angry. But in the end, you sighed, and smiled weakly.

“Just a little bit. That list was horrible.”

“I like to think it shows just how much I love you~”

“Shut up.”

anonymous asked:

Since I seriously have the feels for Jackson, could you please make a scenario where he takes you to the amusement park as the first date? Thank you!

“Don’t be so nervous!” Mark said trying to calm his Hong Kong friend down. “You’ve been on tons of dates!”

“Yeah, but this is completely different because this date is with a girl I actually would be in a serious relationship with,” he sighed. His Taiwanese friend began to massage his shoulders to relax. “Seriously, this is my first actual date, I can’t screw this up.”

"Relax, you’re just going to an amusement park.”

“Do you remember that one time we went to Lotte World as trainees and all of you guys forced me to ride that one rollercoaster?”

Mark thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, you held my hand the whole time and kept screaming at me. Even after the ride.” Jackson turned around and raised his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, crap! You’re terrified of coaster! I almost forgot!”

Jackson replied with yet another sigh. “See? How am I supposed to impress this girl on the first date when I can’t even handle a stupid ride?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to fully win her heart regardless,” Mark smiled.

You stood at the amusement park entrance, patiently waiting for Jackson. You brushed your bangs to the side as you looked at your outfit for the twentieth time. Cute enough to impress, casual enough to fit the theme park scene, and comfortable enough for you to run around.

You checked your phone and were about to call Jackson until you heard someone panting right next to you. You looked over and almost fell off the bench as you saw Jackson sitting so close to you practically begging for air.

“Oh my gosh,” you responded as you laid a hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

“Ran…because…missed…bus..manager…out…members…busy..” He quickly leaned his head on your shoulder as he continued to gasp for air. Your hand remained on his back as the two of you sat there quietly. You let your hand rub his back in a comforting manner.

After a few minutes, he lifted his head off of your shoulder and stretched his arms in the air. You were secretly disappointed about your little affectionate moment, but were happy to see him breathing normally again.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized as he bowed to you before he stood up. You stood up and waved your hands, saying that he didn’t need to apologize. “Well then let’s just stop with the apologizing and enjoy our day at the park,” he smiled. He motioned you to walk before him as you smiled and happily walked towards the entrance.

Jackson was looking at the paper map in his hands as you took pictures of the beautifully decorated theme park with your phone. He looked at you and smiled, seeing that you seemed to be enjoying yourself. He coughed suddenly, gaining your attention. “Oh— um—  hey— are you a fan of rollercoasters?”

You looked up from your phone at him. “I can ride them but— I’m not a big fan of the big, fast, and scream-worthy ones.”

Jackson nodded and smiled in agreement. “Yes, I feel the same way.” He leaned over to show you the map and started pointing out different locations. “Wait, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we explore the park a bit and if we see something that catches our eyes, we’ll do it.”

“Okay!” You smiled excitingly. “Sounds like a plan!”

You started to walk with Jackson on the paved road around the park and admired the scenery: the people, the buildings, the flowers and plants, the decorations, etc. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jackson on your right.

Yes, you were considered an official couple, but it’s only been a few weeks. You were friends prior to dating, so you knew him pretty well already. But dating him seemed a bit different. You didn’t want to speed things up like your past relationships. You didn’t want to ruin what you had with Jackson and that’s why you hesitated a lot. Even with holding his hand.

Jackson turned to you as you were deep in your thoughts and smiled. “I forgot to say this but you look really cute today.”

You felt your cheeks grow warmer at the sound of the compliment. “T-Thank you.” 

Jackson looked down at your empty hands that were swinging at your side as you walked beside him. “Do you mind—” he coughed, “if— I— hold your hand?”

Your eyes grew wider at the words that left his mouth. Your mouth was shut tightly but you nodded. He let out a little chuckle as he let his left hand intertwine with your right hand. He gave your hand a little squeeze before he started looking around once more. This was new, but it felt comfortable.

“Oh!” Jackson said pointing to a clothing store a few meters away. “They have some nice things in there. Let’s go try stuff on!”

You nodded enthusiastically as the both of you quickly strided over. You were delighted to see the cute headbands and clothes that the store had. Jackson held onto your hand as he walked over to the headbands.

“Look!” he said as he grabbed a headband with attached heart antennas. He glanced at you and quickly placed it on top of your head. “Cute,” he giggled. “But y’know what would look cuter?” he asked. You looked over his shoulder to see what he was grabbing. “Me in the same headband!” he laughed in his famous hyena-like laugh.

You lightly punched him with your free hand and tried to hold in your laughter. “You’re so lame!”

He stuck his tongue out at you. “It’s okay, we’re lame together!” he replied with a cheeky smile on his face. “We’re definitely buying these headbands and wearing them all day today.”

“Noooo, that’s embarrassing!” you laughed as he pulled you with him walking to the cashier.

“Oh, it’s too late now! We’re going to be that cute, cheesy, lame couple in the park now and you have no choice~”

After exploring some more, you pointed out the small teacup ride to Jackson. He was a bit hesitant, but with a smile and a bit of aegyo, you managed to convince him to ride it with you. 

He seemed a bit nervous at first, but then he began to spin the teacup around and around, making you burst into laughter as you screamed from so much movement. You could tell he enjoyed that little ride after he got off and asked if you two could go on once more.

After another round at the teacups, a walk through a very confusing maze (which you two managed to walk through successfully after following a nine year old who was chasing down his younger brother), playing hide-and-seek in the fun house, your amusement park date was coming to an end.

You heard your stomach growl as Jackson came out of the bathroom. “Are you hungry?” he asked as his hands locked into yours once again.

“Hm.. a bit,” you replied.

“Well, how about we ride one more ride, eat for a bit, and then call it a day.”

You nodded, but you were a bit sad at the fact that this beautiful date was coming to an end. Walking towards a nearby food stop, you saw the big wooden rollercoaster. “Ooooooooooh! Can we ride that Jackson?”

Jackson looked up and gulped. “Um…” was the only thing that he managed to say as he stared at the tall, wooden contraption.

You looked at him with a sincere smile and squeezed his hand. “If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to ride it. I understand.”

He looked at you and gulped once more. “I’ll ride it— only if you hold onto my hand from the moment we get on until we get off.”

You grinned from ear to ear and accepted his proposal as you ran over to the rollercoaster and Jackson nervously followed from behind.

“Remind me to never do that again,” Jackson laughed as he came to the table with the tray full of food. You smiled in delight as he handed over your order with a small cup of water.

“Awww, c’mon!” you chuckled as you ligtly pushed him from across the table. “You have to admit, it was fun though, right?”

“I don’t think me screaming my head off as I cling to your arm counts as fun,” he grimaced as he took a sip from your cup. “But— that was— different.”

“Different in a good way, right?” you teased.

Jackson dipped his finger in the ice cream and dabbed your nose. “Enough chit-chatting! Go eat!”

You caught up with each other’s lives as he told you about what had happened over the numerous practices that he had last week. You also mentioned how your tests have been, how your friends have been, how your family’s been, etc. 

Within the conversation, Jackson’s hands reached over the table and grabbed your hands. You smiled as you squeezed his hands. You couldn’t help but think you were so lucky to be able to finally call your best friend your boyfriend.

“I had a great time,” Jackson said as you walked out of the park with him.

“I did to,” you added as you squeezed his hand again.

He stopped in his tracks and looked up at you. “Is— is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked. “I MEAN— IF YOU AREN’T COMFORTABLE WITH IT— I WON’T GET OFFENDED— I WAS JUST— WONDERING— IF I—”

“Yes,” you smiled.

He looked up at you in confusion. “I’m sorry did you—”

“Yes, Jackson Wang, you can kiss me.”

He puffed his cheeks in nervousness and exhaled a deep breath of air. He slowly decreased the distance between your lips and his. Both of your eyes were shut but you knew just how close you were in relation to each other.

And before you knew it, your lips touched. And, as if it were strategically planned, fireworks went off in the background at the park. You smiled in the soft kiss and couldn’t help but think you couldn’t have wished for a more perfect moment.

Media talking about bethyl in a romantic light....

Not long ago I saw a post about how bethyl was only in our heads  and only the most low and debious media talks about bethyl in a romantic light, and they did only because they want views in their page, because, you know, all the decent and important media now that Daryl is in love with C@rol (pause here for people to laugh…ok, we can go on now) So I decided to make a list of all the media articles (that I know, of course) that ever talked about bethyl in a romantic way, to know exactly what kind of media they are…

“Reedus talked to fans about the show, warmly referring to the cast as “family,” and immediately recalled his favorite episode. Unsurprisingly, it’s “Still” (Season 4, Episode 12) — or the one where Beth and Daryl drink moonshine and everyone realized they belonged together forever ´´


``Which led to the Daryl Situation. Or should we call it Beryl? Daryl has been the show’s breakout star, and one of the ongoing tensions has been finding him a love interest. There was promise in the “pookie” moments between Carol and Daryl, but their warm but less-than-sexy reunion hug in the season opener suggested that it’s more like a sister-and -brother thing. One of the highlights of last season’s home stretch was seeing the emerging chemistry between Daryl and Beth. Is he old enough to be her dad? Sure. But when the dead want to eat your brains, who’s counting?´´  


” Beth’s chief love interest Daryl (Norman Reedus), her sister Maggie (Lauren Cohan) and Chad Coleman (Tyreese), have all appeared on the hit show at some point throughout their careers.´´


Norman Reedus was asked numerous questions about Dixon’s love life. One fan asked him if there would have been a chance of a Daryl/Beth romance if Emily Kinney’s character hadn’t been killed off, and Reedus responded by saying that “there was definitely a taste of it in the air.” If some Walking Dead fans get their way, Beth Greene will rise from the dead to give Dixon another shot at love.


Daryl and Beth had a good natural chemistry, and appeared more like a fit than Daryl/Carol. A certain teenage-like romance feel to it, their bonding experience in Daryl’s house episode felt genuine.


The show took away the chance for a fan favorite Daryl (Norman Reedus) to finally open himself up fully and potentially find a soulmate in Beth´´


-Clearly, there was a romance blossoming between Daryl and Beth. Daryl backing the peaceful excchange plan was a sing of that.

 -Mania (``Coda´´ review)

As for Daryl, well, that’s a bit more complicated. He wasn’t, of course, related to Beth. But their time in the wilderness together was about more than just survival. At one point, Daryl wanders off. He says he’s looking for water, but he isn’t. He plops himself down by a barn, and lights a cigarette. Then he crushes the cigarette out on the side of his hand. Then he breaks down crying. If you recall, the last moment he spent with Beth was in the kitchen of that mortuary, and he himself hinted that he had fallen for Beth. That cigarette/crying thing cinches, in our minds, that Daryl had indeed fallen in love with Beth.

 - The Wall Street Journal

Yes…so dark and dubious media sites. I mean, who even knows what is The Wall Street Journal? Or Forbes? Is not like if they are two of the most famous and important media sites in the world…oh, wait. They are. 

And both of them, along with another media sites, acknowledged the Beth and Daryl relationship as romantic in their moment. 

So that of ``bethyl existed only in the twisted minds of the bethylers´´…like nope. 

Desperately in Love

Requested by Anonymous: Can you do a reader x Daryl before the apocalypse where the reader and Daryl have been friends since they were kids and the reader always liked him and he finally finds out. And if you’re okay with it can you make it smutty?

Full blown smut (pun intended), no. But I’m OK with borderline smut, so there’s some of that in this fic. ;)

Desperately in Love

“Daryl, please stop that.” You say for the third time as Daryl reaches up and pokes you in the chin.

“Nope.” He says for the third time and pokes you again.

You were lounging on the couch in your living room, waiting for your mother to come home and start dinner. You were trying to read a new book that you’d just started, and Daryl was bored. He had flopped over on his back, his head on your lap, after only about five minutes of silent reading and he was trying to entertain himself by annoying you. “Aren’t you losing a game of Words with Friends with Merle?” You ask, looking down at him.

Daryl shrugs. “I don’t like that game, so he can win.” You place the spine of your book on the bridge of his nose and use his face as a reading table. “Hey!” He protests, too lazy to move.

“Shh. Just let it happen.” You say, running your fingers through his hair absent-mindedly while you read. He fell silent and was soon snoring lightly under your book. You pick the paperback up and look down at your best friend’s sleeping face. It almost made you a little sad.

You were eighteen and about to enter your senior year of high school; this time next year you’d be preparing to move away from him. The thought made your stomach twist in knots. Your mom and Daryl’s mom had been friends for over thirty years now, and you’d grown up practically attached to Daryl’s hip.

You’d been there for him when his dad went to jail. He’d been there when you fell out of that tree and broke your arm. You’d stayed by his side for two days and helped him when he got the stomach flu and his mother was out of town. He’d held you as you cried at your grandmother’s funeral. You’d gotten into that fist fight with Alyssa Straughts and Michael Crowner when they saw his scars during swim day in gym class and had started making fun of him. He’d been there for you when you got suspended for fighting Alyssa Straughts and Michael Crowner. You’d been there the first (and last) time he’d gotten drunk and mean. He’d held your hair, leaning against the graffitied stall in the women’s bathroom at school for two hours, when you got food poisoning from the fish sticks he’d dared you to eat.

You’d been there when he got his motorcycle, both of you giddy with joy as you took an impromptu road-trip to a tiny town three hours away just to buy some potato chips. He’d been there when you got your Harvard acceptance letter, crying from joy and pride and refusing to let you out of his hug.

It had been an amazing eighteen years. And it was all ending.

You don’t know when you’d fallen in love with Daryl, but it had happened at some point, and now the thought of leaving him was tearing a hole through your chest.

“What’s wrong?”

You look down at your lap. You hadn’t noticed that Daryl had woken back up, but he was staring at you now with a concerned look on his face. “Nothing.” You say.

He shakes his head and sits up. “Bullshit.” The problem with knowing another person so well was that you could never hide when you’re upset.

You sigh. “If I tell you, do you promise not to laugh at me or make fun of me?”

“No.” He says with a smile and you roll your eyes. “I’m kidding, just tell me.”

You sigh. “Well, I’m thinking about next year and moving away from here. All the way to Massachusetts…” You trail off. “I’m going to be really far away.”

“It’s gonna suck.” Daryl nods.

“It’s killing me.” You blurt and Daryl looks confused. You rush through your confession. No turning back now. “It’s slowly eating away at me that I have to leave you. I’m in love with you and I can’t stand the idea that I only have one short year left with you.” Daryl was quiet, surveying you carefully. “You don’t have to say anything.” You say, regretting you told him the truth. “If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine. I just—“ You didn’t get to finish your statement because Daryl was suddenly kissing you.

It was hesitant. Barely even there. Daryl’s lips lingered on yours for only a moment before he sat back against the couch and stared at his lap, a bright red blush covering his cheeks. “I’m in love with you, too.” He says quietly.

You take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze until he looks at you. Then, you swoop in and kiss him again, this time with more conviction.

Your kiss was innocent enough at first, but it slowly turned more desperate and passionate the longer it went on. Before you knew it, you were making out with your best-friend-turned-boyfriend on your parents’ rickety old sofa. You were dizzy from happiness, almost crying from joy.

Daryl wasn’t taking much initiative at the moment, so you swung yourself up onto his lap, pinning his shoulders to the sofa and ramming your tongue into his mouth. It was a little clumsy, but it seemed to work for him because he grabbed your ass and pulled you closer. Daryl broke the kiss first, dipping his head to nibble on the skin of your neck.

You ground your hips repeatedly into his, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as he sucked on the hollow of your neck. “Let’s do this.” You say, a little breathless already.

“Mmm.” Daryl hummed against your neck. “I could do this all day.”

“No, you idiot, that’s not what I meant.” You giggle a little as he looks up at you, confused. You stand, offering him your hand. He takes it and you start to lead him upstairs to your bedroom. You slowly shut the door behind you and give him a little push so that he’s sitting on your bed. You reposition yourself on his lap and kiss him deeply. “Make love to me, Daryl Dixon.”

“OK.” Is all he says, and you both start to laugh a little. Then, he lays you down on the comforter and pops the button on your jeans.


“I’m desperately in love with you.” Daryl murmers softly into your skin. You were basking in the afterglow of your first time together, lying naked in your bed and listening to the sound of birds outside the window. Daryl was lying on top of you still, his head resting on your chest.

“Me, too.” You say. “I think I always have been.” You start to play with Daryl’s hair, pushing it out of his face as he peppers your face, neck, and breasts with soft, loving kisses. “I can see myself getting old with you.” You say.

Before Daryl has the chance to respond, though, your bedroom door bangs open and your dad is standing in the doorway, fuming. “What the hell is going on in here?!” He yells. Daryl panics and rolls away from the door and directly out of bed and onto the floor. “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” Your dad had a baseball bat.

“I can explain, Mr. Y/L/N! It’s not… uh, well…” He’s frantically looking for his pants. He finally found his jeans under yours and pulled them on quickly.

“Daddy!” You say, holding the comforter over your chest and glaring at your dad. “Will you stop this?”

“Frank, please, you’re embarrassing them and yourself.” Your mom was standing behind him, arms crossed and looking annoyed at your father. “They’re eighteen years-old for crying out loud!”

“But, Linda—“

“Besides, you know Daryl. You’ve told me on numerous occasions that he’s like a son to you. You’re acting like you caught Y/N in bed with some delinquent that we don’t even know! Just let it go.” Your mom rolls her eyes and starts to go downstairs. “Dinner’s ready, by the way.”

Your dad still hasn’t taken his eyes off Daryl. “You got ‘til I count to ten to get out of my house.” He stepped out of the doorway briefly and pointed at the stairs. Daryl shot out of the room and practically jumped down the whole flight of stairs. “You.” Your dad said, pointing the bat at you. “I’m going to deal with you later. Right now, I need to take a drive.” He starts to turn away. “When I get home, we’ll discuss the ground rules of you dating.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Now get dressed and go downstairs. Your mother has dinner waiting.” He closes the door behind him.

You crawl out of bed and look for your clothes, but instead of your jeans and bra, you find Daryl’s shirt wedged between the mattress and the bedframe at the foot of the bed, and an idea sparks in your mind. You pull the shirt on and walk over to the full length mirror behind your door.

You whip out your phone, clicking the camera button and positioning the lens to capture the angle you want. Then, you push the hem of the shirt up just enough so that it’s obvious you weren’t wearing any panties, but not far enough to actually show anything. You press the button to take the picture and smile to yourself.

You open your last text conversation with Daryl and attach the photo, pressing send and smirking to yourself.

“Missing you already.” You send immediately after, then locate your underwear and jeans. As you were pulling them on, your phone chimed.

You can’t be doing shit like that to me, girl.

You smile to yourself.

I’ll do whatever I want to you, love ;)

Is that a threat?

It’s a promise :*

You pocket the phone and go downstairs to where your mother is waiting at the dinner table. “Are you mad?” You ask.

“Of course not.” She kisses your temple and smooths down your hair. “I’m happy for you. I already told Melissa and she’s elated. We always knew you two would end up together.” Your mom laughs.

“Oh man, Daryl’s going to be pissed when he finds out you told his mom.”

“He’ll get over it. They’re both coming over for dinner tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. Both your mom and Ma Dixon did this all the time. So, you decide to ignore it, heap a load of mashed potatoes onto your plate, and start eating in silence. Then, after about five minutes, you can’t contain your smile anymore. “I’m in love, mom.”

“I know.” She nods. “I’m just glad that you know now, too.”


So, I decided to go a little out of order and write this instead of “Never Leave Me”, which is next on my request fill list, because nearly all of the requests in my ask box right now are kind of dark and deal with stuff like abuse, depression, tragedy, and other super sad stuff.

I don’t mind writing that genre; in fact some of my better fics are in the hurt/comfort category. But, sometimes I need a break from the tragedy and I need some pure fluff. So that’s what I did here :)

Enjoy the fluff! Cause tomorrow you’re getting more hurt/comfort. lol :P

Love you all!



Request:  Could you do an imagine were the reader is outside tanning in a swimsuit and cas doesn’t understand why she barely has any clothes on and why she is laying in the sun and so she has to explain it to him and then after laying for a while she gets really sunburned and Sam and Dean tease her about it and say I told you so but cas doesn’t like that she is in pain since he has a crush on her. Wow sorry that was really detailed and you don’t have to do all that anyway thanks!
Reader gender: Female
Word count: 1,198
Warning: Innocent!Cas, Sunburn

A/N: Ok so I am one week away from finishing my exams (Woohoo) I know this one wasn’t the first on the list but I just got the idea straight away and wanted to get something posted for you guys. I am also currently working on Please part two since I got about 100000 requests for that (Thank by the way, I’m glad you guys enjoyed it) Hopefully more oneshots coming soon as i have a ton of time to write - in the meantime I hope you enjoy this one :)

Keep reading

Mission: Make Him Laugh (John Murphy Imagine)

Hi! Can you do a John Murphy imagine whereyou’re out hunting together and you do something purposely stupid/embarrassing to make him laugh? I love your blog by the way!

Here it is! It’s not super romantic or anything, I hope that’s okay. I thought that might distract from the storyline. I hope you like it!!!


You were going to make John Murphy laugh. You would make sure of it. It had become your new goal.

You had never seen Murphy smile, let alone laugh. Unless of course you counted the numerous smirks he throws at Bellamy (and like pretty much everyone else, if you were being honest) just to spite him.

“Hey Y/N.”

Speak of the devil.

“What’s up, Murphy?”

“Bellamy needs some groups to split up and go hunting. You in?”

“Sure. Just let me grab my stuff.”

Perfect. An opportunity had presented itself.

“Cool. I’ll wait by the gate.”

You jog over to your tent, grab a gun and a knife, and then head off to find Murphy.

“Took you long enough.” Murphy remarks.

“Shut up.” You say, rolling your eyes and continuing on your way. You miss his slight smirk as you walk away, further into the forest.


You and Murphy had been out hunting for the better part of an hour, and had yet to find anything. You were about to turn around and head back to camp, when suddenly-

“Wait! Get back.” Murphy whispers loudly, ducking behind a fallen tree trunk. There in front of you, was a deer (luckily, with only one head). Murphy aims his gun and shoots a few times, killing the deer.

“Um…how are the two of us supposed to get this deer back to camp?”

“What…you don’t think you can handle it?” The way he says it makes it sound like a challenge. You weren’t one to back down from a challenge. Especially not when it’s coming from John Murphy.

You don’t say anything, just walk towards the deer and grab it’s two hind legs. “You gonna help?”

There’s that smirk again. “Of course.”

He grabs the deer’s front legs and you start to head back to camp. As you’re walking, you notice that there is a tree right in your path. If you aim just right…you could walk right into it. Murphy doesn’t seem to have noticed. Well…worth a shot. Here goes nothing. Mission: Make Murphy Laugh is a go.

You pretend not to pay attention to what’s in front of you, instead aiming your gaze at the deer being dragged along behind you. This better be worth it. Just as you predicted, you walk right into the tree and…bingo.

Murphy stares on in shock for a few seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter.

You had face planted into the deer.

Mission: Make Murphy Laugh = Success.


i am ruthless

i am shady

i am hardly bearable

i am filterless

and i have had my fun for today. to everyone sending me messages about how much of all of these things i am and how disappointed they are in me for being these things….well…you’re right and i am completely aware of it.  but that doesn’t mean i’m sorry. im not sorry at all because i finally got to breathe. after taylor liked that post there was a stillness…a sudden stillness right before everyone had realized what happened and what would happen. and in that moment i realized that was it…taylor was completely done with the same shit i was getting….we agreed on something. and you know what? i wasn’t the only one that had to go through this hell…every tayvin shipper was…especially those some would consider “big blogs”? like Mac and Ari. there isn’t a single tayvin shipper out there that hasn’t been through absolute shit because of people who didn’t respect their ship. but here we are and taylor finally say something (technically) and I’M being “rude”, “not a person [you] want to be following” and ”shitty” for celebrating the way i want to celebrate: by returning the shit i’ve gotten. i have been respectful about this for the longest but no one dares pay attention to that. if you have a problem with how i’m being on my blog (as i have stated numerous times before) you can unfollow me. i swear to you i am not here for my follower count….others may be but i’m not….and i never was. i can’t wait until people realize that. if you want to discuss my behavior then take your ass off of anon and speak to me and we can have a discussion. i don’t need a letter of resignation from you….leave quietly. i am speaking for every shipper who has ever gotten shit…..leave quietly. i have been called every name in the book…i have even had every racial slur thrown at me since yesterday’s post and i promise you this is the last time i am stressing this. You ready? here it is: I DONT FUCKING CARE. AS LONG AS YOUR MESSAGE COMES WITH A FACELESS CIRCLE WITH SHADES ON, I DONT FUCKING CARE. A nameless message means nothing to me if it isn’t useful information, funny, nice or dirty. do you feel some type of power when you when you send anons? what the fuck emotionally comes along with sending an anonymous message? please tell me…i have never sent one and i have no idea why someone would want to….especially hurtful ones. I just want you all to know how disappointed i am in the fact that you’re disappointed in me lmfao. what i do on my blog is what i do on my blog and you are free to unfollow me. i have deleted, blocked, and unfollowed so many people since tayvin began and i just wanted to have one night to just be fucking happy about the fact that i’m not at the short end of the stick for once. kaylor shippers are kaylor shippers by choice. no one wants to stop them from shipping what they want but i will step up when ever someone is saying shit like “taylor can kill herself…” and other completely sickening shit because it’s a fucking ship. A FUCKING SHIP. THAT’S NOT EVEN HUMANE. i have never threatened someone’s life nor have have told someone to kill themselves because no human should be so heartless….ever. the sad part is…that one little line doesn’t even begin to describe everything that has been written to me by a ruthless kaylor shipper. and you know i do understand that there are harmless kaylor shippers…the ones who ship their friendship or even ship them as more than that peacefully. i respect them….i respect them so much and i would never drag them. but the ones who have made my life a living hell…..they deserve the hell they are getting and i will not apologize. and you know what i am so glad i got this off of my chest because i have typed this entire thing while watching PLL and i don’t know what any of it says so i hope my thoughts and feelings make sense to you because once again, i am the bad guy….so have a good fucking night because i have better shit to do tonight like curse out the writers of PLL in my head as i continue to eat my popcorn and drink my Taco Bell freezie.

His brown hues stared out of the window, counting the drops on that remained there of the rain while his class worked in silence. Jayden sometimes questioned his profession, maybe because he had way too much going on in his life once more and he just wanted to go somewhere where no one knew him. Where he was just an unfamiliar face in the crowd. Without plenty of faces gaping at him, without a crazy girlfriend who accused him numerous of times of the most ridiculous things. Sometimes it seemed better to disappear.

Finally he ripped his gaze off the window as he heard a knock on the door. A girl appearing whole seemed to be soaked from the rain. “Ms. Kensington. Take a seat place. Or.. go to the nurse to get some dry clothes first.” He offered, smiling comforting towards his student before looking down at the book in front of him.
“Can I talk to you for a moment Patricia?” The male asked as everyone hurried out of class for the break. Patiently he waited for the last to leave to turn back to her. “Your grades are dropping, you’re lately never on time.. I was just wondering if you were doing okay or if you need help with studying.”
The Curse of Kiseki: How One Of Japan's Biggest RPGs Barely Made It To America
One day in March of last year, video game writer Andrew Dice wrote out a check for all of his company’s money. He stuck it in the doorframe at his business partner’s apartment in Portland, Oregon, then went back to his own place. (They live in the same complex.) He closed all the windows. Then, as he tells it, he laid down on his bed and picked up a knife, preparing to plunge it into his chest.
By Jason Schreier

I want to be able to say that my first thought upon reading this was, “Oh god, that sounds like a nightmare.”

But it wasn’t. My first thought was, “One translator and two editors for three million Japanese characters? How could it be anything but a nightmare?”

Now, before I say anything else, I do want to say that I can only imagine how grueling this must have been; I’ve been on some nightmarish projects in my eleven or so years in professional Japanese localization, but nothing on the scope or scale as this (certainly nothing that actually made me want to kill myself). I have nothing but respect for these folks for managing to get through this, and I’m hoping that the team seeing the game through to release feels to them like the accomplishment that it legitimately is.

Still, as someone who’s also involved with Japanese localization, I’m invariably predisposed to try to read between the lines of something like this—and so when I see something about a game taking nearly half a decade to localize, as someone with some insight on how the process usually works, my first thought is, “How?”

So let’s break this down.

First, unless you’re an editor or a translator (or perhaps also a writer), you probably don’t have a good mental grasp of how much text three million Japanese characters is. To put it in perspective, then, the accepted pace for a Japanese translator (in my experience) is roughly 5,000 characters per day, give or take. Simple math here gives us 600 days’ worth of work, just for the translation.

Obviously, considering the timeline that most games are developed and released on, that’s not a realistic amount of text for one translator or even two translators to handle; even if the only time someone took off was weekends, that’s only 260 work days a year, meaning that working full-time, this volume of text would take a single person more than two years to translate.

I have been on ginormous projects before, including ones that had character counts that measured in the millions, but in all those cases, I’ve only ever been one of numerous translators assigned to those projects. As you can imagine, most projects with this much text are JRPG titles, and most of the time, you can divvy up the translation workload in fairly sensible ways: e.g., one person might handle all of the equipment and item translations, one person handles the system text and online interface portions, another person handles side quests, and so forth and so on, just as an example.

Then, of course, you need to edit it all, and if having a single translator for such an absurd amount of text is a bad idea, so is having a single editor. Generally speaking, most editing timelines I’ve been involved with assume a 2:1 time ratio for translation and editing—that is, it takes roughly half the time to edit the text as it does to translate it. Which, in this case, is still over a year of work, at a normal full-time pace.

Now, given the issues mentioned in the articles about problems with the contract (a frequent issue in international business), plus the format mixup (I’ve had to go manually from CSV to Excel before, and it is a process that is as grueling and time-consuming as it is boring and unfulfilling), yes, I can easily believe that four-plus years is not unrealistic for a three-person team in this case.

Unfortunately, with a localization team this small, with little to no outside support, it’s hard (for me, at least) to see any other way this could have gone. It feels to me like asking one architect and two builders to construct a massive shopping center and then wondering why it isn’t finished in six months, while everyone else is sitting there wondering, “Why aren’t more people working on this?”

I’ve heard localization stories about games that were a labor of love, but what Carpe Fulgur and XSEED pulled off here cannot be called anything but. Through no malice or any fault of their own, consumers don’t realize how involved and time-consuming the localization process is (having worked on the Yakuza series at Sega, I could only roll my eyes at the fans demanding to know why the second installment was taking so long when we were ‘just’ translating it and not doing voice recording); also, sadly, Japanese localized titles are something of a niche market in the West nowadays, which means that publishers won’t, don’t, and can’t take the monetary risk when a project is this large.

So, mad professional respect to Andrew Dice, Robin Light-Williams, and Jessica Chavez. Even with the Kotaku article being this in-depth, I don’t think a lot of readers can fully understand the scope of this sort of undertaking, and so I hope I’ve been able to add a bit of perspective to that, and maybe made an already triumphant story about achieving the seemingly impossible a bit easier to grasp.

  “And you know you’re supposed to call us every sunday, right?” his father asked worriedly, sticking his head out of the car window. Thomas sighed.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s not like I’m cutting off all communication,” he said, smiling. “Bye, guys. Love you.”

Thomas turned from his parents’ silver Honda and to the big building in front of him. Numerous boys milled around the grounds, sitting on the grass or on the steps or standing around. He even counted a few sitting in trees. He rolled his shoulders, hearing the car drive off behind him, and walked along the path and up the steps, entering the building. Upon seeing a “dorms this way” sign, he took an immediate left and padded down the hall through to another corridor with numbered doors. What room number was he, again? Oh, right– 247. He walked along, pulling his backpack straps tightly against him and holding his trunk in a tight clasp, glancing around for room 247.

After a while of walking back and forth along the corridor, he finally found the door he was looking for. He hesitated, eyeing the big orange stain to the left of the number plaque, but steeled himself and entered the room. 

No one was there, but it was definitely inhabited by a teenage boy. clothes lay around the room in various heaps, bags were slumped over in seemingly random places, and garbage was all around. Thomas located the cleaner bed and set his bags down on it, swallowing as he looked around the room. It was a bit disgusting. And wasn’t his roommate supposed to be waiting in the room for when he arrived? He knew he was rooming with a Junior, but that was all he knew about the guy he’d be living with for the rest of the year. 

Uninvited guest [Closed for sorrowfulllifeform]

Home at last…

Well sort of. Toaster made his way through a fairly large cave,, on the sea-front of goodness-knows-where. He’d just finished up quite a high-pay piece of demolitions work, and had been planning on going home. Sadly, the breach gate wasn’t cooperating, and as such he was heading for one of his numerous hideaways.

What he hadn’t counted on was that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling of being followed. He shook it off somewhat, probably just his paranoia playing up again… but he couldn’t help throwing a wary glance over his shoulder before heading for the large metal doorway hidden at the back of the cave.