and then when he moves and she see's that he's alive hold me

100 Prompts That Will Make You Cry: Part 1

Unfortunately, my amigos, we managed to come up with 100 prompts. Here’s part 1:

  1. You’re a ghost haunting your own funeral. You see that nobody showed up.
  2. What are these strangers doing in your house? You’re confused and angry, it’s been a week and it seems like they’re not leaving, they’re not even paying attention to you. You’re the ghost haunting your house without knowing it.
  3. A single man and dog run the Iditarod only to show up with the medicine for his daughter too late. This is his story.
  4. You fight for a noble cause. You complete all the necessary steps. You reach the top of the world doing good deeds to improve peoples lives. It’s your first day of retirement and you watch your hard work comes undone before your eyes.
  5. “You can’t understand how it is to feel this worthless. I just want it all to go away! I want it all to STOP!”
  6. Despite everything they did, everything they went through. It was made clear that their attempts were pointless, as they were too late to save them.
  7. The only thing left for you to do was to leave forever
  8. You didn’t visit your parent figure in hospital the day before they passed away because you wanted to finish your homework. Less than 24 hours later, you get a message from your sibling. “They passed away this morning.”
  9. No matter how hard you try, they just laugh at you. You are a joke, a game, you don’t matter. You’ve had enough.
  10. “Robert, you can’t just leave! There are fifty kids waiting for you! You promised you’d get us out alive. You told them so!” “No, darling, I promised I’d get us out alive. Us, being me and my 500 grand. Thanks for your help, by the way. Sorry about the boiled alive thing. Chao!”
  11. Why did you leave me? It’s been 15 years. Why did you leave? I can’t just accept the fact that you showed up on my doorstep expecting an apology. I have a family now. And I can’t let you pull me into your problems.
  12. Your school, company, or organisation has required you to go to therapy for a potentially traumatic incident. This is the session when you decide to tell the story of becoming estranged from your last living relative.
  13. You can only watch the live news helplessly as, thousands of miles away, an tsunami happens in the country your best friend happens to be visiting
  14. “My head is full of you but my arms are empty.”
  15. Best Friends Forever", we used to say. But now we aren’t even talking anymore. When I see them anywhere, another person is by their side, a new best friend. And I, I am all alone.
  16. Person A shares something that no one knew about them and it is very personal and then they get outcasted by their family and person B is the only one to support them as they cry.
  17. The fire was pretty, swirling in shades of blue and green and purple, if you could ignore the fact it was destroying the planet.
  18. A crying child in the hospital bed looks to you for answers. She wants to know where her mommy is. You have no answer.
  19. “I cannot take it anymore, Sam. You don’t tell me anything, you’ve been disappearing for hours, you have phone calls you don’t want me to hear, and now you forgot our anniversary. I’m done being patient. I have packed my things, you can keep the car and the house. Goodbye.” A small box fell out of his fingers, and a ring with a diamond shining merrily on the band rolled away, as the phone stopped playing out the voicemail.
  20. You unlock your phone, and, ignoring the shaking of your hand, answer the call. “Hey” you say, not even trying to compress the wound, too far gone as you already are, “no, i’m fine. I’ll be with you in a minute or two…”
  21. I knew it would be there, I saved for this special occasion. It was my deserved reward after a shitty day and it was gone. The cupcake was gone.
  22. it was finally summer, his favorite season. He sat up in his bed and told you all about what he did last year. He rode his bike everywhere, he played so many games with his friends, he swam in the town park pool… you were the doctor, and you had come in to bring his parents out of the room to talk to them about how the cancer had spread unexpectedly.
  23. You’ve just had an unpleasant lunch with your family and one of your siblings has just told you that you’ve been horrible the entire meal. What now?
  24. Your mom starts crying
  25. you walk down the street and you see a familiar face. Your heart starts beating faster and you speed up, because Gosh, you haven’t seen them in the longest time, but then as you are about to reach them and scream their name, you suddenly stop because remember that it can’t be them because you’re now on the other side of the world, and you left the person you love far away….
  26. It’s your grandfather’ funeral. The place is packed, he was loved by so many. Then, a small child puts a cup of coffee by his ashes.. (“Have this grandpa, it’s time to wake up”)
  27. The person you love has to be killed in order to save other people. Their death guarantees the others’ safety and it is the right thing to do, and they want to do it, but you have to kill them. So you do.
  28. you have the power to bring back the dead. You quickly realize that this comes with draw-backs since certain parts of them stay dead. someone close to you had an accident and this is the most difficult decision of your life.
  29. the smallest coffins are the heaviest.
  30. Her answer is to gently cup your face with trembling hands. Her smile is gentle and so, so sad. Her breathy whisper reaches your ears, “because love is watching someone die,” and shatters your world.
  31. It had always been her. From the first day you saw her, you knew that she was the one, the one you wanted to spend your entire life with. Day by day, that future became a little more solid, a little more opaque. Until you watched it shrivel, collapse and die when strangers pulled a frail, familiar body out of the wreck.
  32. you wake up to silence, except for the sound of quiet sobbing and a set of packed suitcases in the hall.
  33. “I’m going to… take a nap… just for a minute. I’ll be… right back.” He lies down just where he sat. “Could you… hold my hand?”, he asks of her. She moves carefully around the table, as not to disrupt the game that they will certainly continue. He rests his head on her knees. “Are you there?”, he asks. “Yes, I’m here.” He holds her hand tighter. “Are you there?”, he asks, slowly his voice getting quieter and weaker….
  34. You and your family were in a car crash. You think you’ve survived but in the hospital you found you’ve died and you watch your parents, your SO, your children and your friends mourn. You don’t leave earth. You remain there watching over your loved ones, but when they die, they don’t join you. You are by yourself forever.
  35. Driving home, you hit something. Getting out, you realize it’s your pet who went missing a few months ago
  36. Using the word ‘almost’ is the most melancholic way to describe an upsetting moment. She almost got there in time. He almost caught her. She almost told her. They almost made it.
  37. You realise animals no longer acknowledge your existence. They can’t seem to see or hear you. Your best friend is your dog.
  38. “I’ll never be perfect in my parents’ eyes no matter what I do.”
  39. When you were 7, you were kidnapped when for 15 years. At the age of 22, you are finally rescued. Write about your time held in captivity and what it was like when you were saved.
  40. Time and time again, the prompt guy refuses my Danny DeVito suggestions
  41. “You’re the worst teacher I ever had, but I don’t want you to leave, because you were also the best, in a way.”
  42. after always feeling like you were never wanted around, someone decided to tell you how you felt is exactly right. and now you have a fire in your heart you’ve decided to do something about it.
  43. He was supposed to protect me. Instead he became the one I needed protection from.
  44. “We’ll be finally be able to be together. Just one more year. Then we can finally be happy.” That was the last thing you said to your lover before going back off to war. Now you find yourself in an empty house, holding one last letter addressed to you and the memories of a lifetime of unfulfilled promises.
  45. I’m not sure which was worse: keeping it a secret for so many years, or the look on my mom’s face when I told her.
  46. you moved in a new town a few months ago. One of your friend tells you that he heard your best friend say “There’s no point staying in touch, we won’t see each other ever again.”
  47. “I’m sorry sir, but we’re all out of chicken nuggets.”
  48. You are a stray dog. Your master lost you 3 years ago. You go on an epic and heart-filled journey to find your master, not knowing that they are already dead.
  49. It was the first time your parents said the word proud in relation to you, but you could just feel that was nothing more than a backhanded compliment. It only made you feel terrible.
  50. After five years, they were finally back together. But time had torn them apart and as much as they tried, they were unable to love each other again.
  51. The dark and dreary realisation finally hit you: You’re the one in the coffin. This is your funeral. All these people are upset and crying over you.
  52. The war had been ravaging the country for years. You fought for your country, you shed your blood, you did your part. And yet a mistake is going to be your undoing. Write your last letter before your execution to a daughter you will never come back to.
  53. Your siblings played a game with you, it was called “Who can ignore you the most”. But it’s okay, you knew they love you, because there was still food on the table, and bedtime was still shared in the same room. It’s been years, you’re in the worst time of your life now, and you feel the need to reach out for help. You hope the game is over by now.
  54. You’ve been messaging someone online for years now, chatting with them about this and that every so often. They stopped logging on a month ago. You have no way of knowing if they’re okay, and can only watch and wait for a reply.
  55. You read a late familiar’s diary from decades ago. You knew nothing about them before this moment.Their insight in life is what you need to solve your problems, and your insight could have helped save their life.
  56. “I am so tired.” She whispered to him, inches away from jumping of that bridge.
  57. Every time your father leaves for work, you wonder if he’s going to die. You make sure to say “i love you” every day before he goes, but one day you forget…
  58. you’re the last member of your species, your culture, your language. Scientists are around you, waiting for every bit that you can share, for them to document. They don’t care about you. Although you’re surrounded by people, you’re alone.
  59. your idol, a vegetarian, was forcefully fed a hotdog
  60. Write about the small and big sacrifices mothers make for their children.
  61. You are trapped in a “coma” can hear everything around you, including friends and family coming to say goodbye before your life-support is taken away due to lack of insurance. They can’t prove you aren’t brain dead. You can’t say goodbye back.
  62. “The monsters won’t come and hurt me will they daddy?” “As long as I’m around,” he said, giving you a goodnight kiss. “No one will ever hurt you.” “You’ll come home right? Promise?” “I Promise.” But he failed to keep his promise. He never came home and the monsters got you after all.
  63. Tell the story of someone who goes about daily life, well, tries to anyway. It’s hard for them because they had severe depression. Tell of their struggles and trials. But also tell of their successes.
  64. For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never worn.
  65. you’re the last person in the world and you just lost hope for finding anyone else
  66. You went on a great quest with your friends. You slayed monsters together, fended off enemies, and overcame all challenges that came your way. However, your friends perished at the final boss. You’ve just defeated him, and the reality is sinking in.
  67. You are the new Death. The torch has been passed down to you for reasons you don’t know. It is now your job to take the lives of those whose time is up, old or young. Are you prepared to do it? And why were you chosen?
  68. You have become immortal through a game that destroyed your universe. You and and your friends recreated the universe. You remember, they do not. The big bad from the game haunts your dreams.
  69. You wake up and smell something burning. You think someone is making breakfast. You get up to see your house is on fire and you’re the only survivor.
  70. As the crowd around you cheers for your brother’s assassin, you hold him in your arms as you watch his life fade. He was the most hated man in the world, a brutal dictator, a tyrant worse than your father ever was. He was the very kind of man who you hated yourself. Yet you’re crying, looking down upon his smiling face as he watches the crowd and his killer in his final moments, because in the end this was what he promised you. He promised to make a world where no one would have to fight anymore, where there can be peace. And now that the most hated man is dead, there can be.
  71. After a long fulfilling life, you find yourself in the past, at the lowest point of your life. Your family is gone, your friends don’t know who you are, and you’re left with nothing. What do you do?
  72. there’s no pizza in the fridge
  73. You love children and plan to have some one day, until you find out at a doctors appointment that you are infertile…
  74. It’s the effort that counts but it’s the result that’s remembered. Write a story about someone who spent years devoted to their passion but their efforts remain unrecognised, unappreciated because they were ultimately unsuccessful, even after death.
  75. “…you never really loved me, did you.” and the silence said it all
  76. you are a dog going into the vet. You have no idea why your owner is crying. You have no idea that it’s your last visit.
  77. Your parents just told you that they’re getting a divorce.
  78. Your best friend/SO has wronged the gods and has 24 hours to live. You can trade your life for theirs by putting your essence by the mercy of the gods. What do you do?
  79. he spat angrily as he raised what remained of his son “I NEVER LOVED YOU”
  80. write a story where you build up to one character’s death. In the end, that character survives, but another character dies instead.
  81. You are a time traveler, but you never knew it. The only time you successfully did it was when you were a baby, and you’ve grown up a long time away from your original life. One day, you find a shrine… Dedicated to you, by your original family.
  82. You sat across from them at the table, and realized that you had both run out of things to say to each other.
  83. Write a story about an adventurous character who somehow survives all the trouble they get into. These are the memories of an old person, as they remember what they did, with a week of less left before their last breath.
  84. Everyone else had moved on further. You have missed your opportunity to move along with them, and you are the only one left behind in the gray lands. All because of your most annoying habit
  85. “But I rescued you from-” “You killed the dragon! You killed my best friend!”
  86. When you were little, you lost your parents in a house fire. Now, you’ve found out that you have the power to control fire, and are starting to suspect that the fire that killed your parents wasn’t a cooking accident after all..
  87. You spent the past 10 minutes walking back and forth from the lobby to the dance floor in search of them, worrying your ass off. They finally decide to come out and they curse at you for ruining their night.
  88. It was horrible, a pain unbearable to you, the feeling of your soulmate breaking down. The person you once loved, now shattered and scarred from trauma. The worst of part of it, you were helpless. All you could do was sit and watch, but you’d get your revenge. On Death himself.
  89. Your maths teacher gives you a school detention despite the fact that you are 110% innocent of everything you’ve been accused of.   You are forced to stare at a wall for half an hour in silence to think about ‘what you’ve done.’  What happens now?
  90. You confess to your parents about your depression and suicidal thoughts, but they just shrug it off as you being over dramatic. Months later and the sight of your parents still hurts you deep inside, because they never understood you.
  91. You’re in love with your coworker, who’s married and has two kids. He’s quitting job today. He tells you that he loves you.
  92. You’re in a room full of onions.
  93. You’re just about to start your period and you’ve been craving Chinese food all week. You finally get said Chinese food, get home, pull it out of the bag and drop it. You start scream-crying, and your family runs into the room to check on you. What happens next?
  94. Your daughter has been bullied ever since she’s started school due to the fact that you aren’t the richest of families in a pretty nice neighborhood. When she begs you to buy her a doll everybody likes, you know you won’t be able to afford it.
  95. You hide in your room and clutch a pillow, listening to the abusive language your family members through at each other. You hear your youngest sibling being physically abused again, and his screams echo throughout the house.
  96. “We found cancerous tissue. I’m sorry.” “What a way to start my first day of college.” (comment: this actually happened to me, I was diagnosed with cancer my first day of college)
  97. An old man is on his death bed, riddled with dementia.  Volunteering for the elderly with no family left, you visit, but he mistakes you for son or daughter.
  98. I looked in the mirror and realized who was staring back. It was someone I wasn’t content with.
  99. Write a story through the perspective of an abused cat on their 9th life.
  100. Tell a story about a person who never appears in photographs because they were always behind the camera, looking wistfully at everyone’s smiling faces. It is only after they’re long gone that someone finally notices. Old memories are brought up.

The Reason I Don’t Do Cold Readings Anymore…

by reddit user Skarjo

I don’t do ‘Cold Readings’ anymore. I don’t tell fortunes. I don’t read tea leaves.

And I do not do contact ‘the other side’.

Look, don’t judge me alright? It was an easy gig. I mean, the first time I did it, it was a joke. I did it just to impress a girl. You’ve been there right? It was something I’d read about online and I thought I’d give it a go.

Keep reading

PROPOSALS

▹ pairing: Jeongguk x reader
▹ words: 18,102 I’m so sorry 
▹ genre: smut, fluff, light angst, friends to lovers

You and Jeongguk propose at restaurants to get free food, but somewhere along the way you start to fall for him.


You never thought Jeongguk would actually take you up on the whole fake proposals thing. When you had suggested the idea to him, he’d just laughed and said “yeah”, then continued playing Fallout 4. You hadn’t actually meant it; the idea was one of those you vaguely imagine it happening, but not really, which is why when he brought it up weeks later suggesting you try it out, you thought he was kidding. 

He wasn’t, and this is how you end up in one of the city’s nicer restaurants on a fake date with your best friend. 

Keep reading

We Got Married (M)

Originally posted by kthmyg

8.8k words. Arranged Marriage AU. Min Yoongi.

Warning: Fingering. Phone sex. ft Kim Namjoon.


It’s hilarious, laughable, pathetic even, how love could either build you or ruin you and yet knowing this, people still chase after it like the rise of golden light beyond the horizon, or the last drop of dew in twilight, or the flutter of that one coral blue butterflies in buttercup paved meadow.

It’s frightening, daunting, startling even, how love makes your hands clammy like you’re being interviewed by the very man who founded the big shot company you’ve applied to.

And it’s utterly, impossibly, unbelievable how love comes in many ways like a bump and a spill of coffee on crisp white shirt, or a brush of hands upon a dusty leather brown book spine or an envelope obtained from a mailbox on one’s way back from grocery shopping.

Well, that’s exactly what’s happening to Min Yoongi, second son to one of the well-known elite families in Seoul. Most of the time, he couldn’t care less about family matters; business deals, dinner with alien faces and empty conversations─ those things he’s entitled to attend with mildly bored eyes and champagne he’ll never finish in one hand. But this particular matter, he can’t just not care. One, because it directly concerns him (as if the cursive letter of his name engraved in bold black against crisp white isn’t enough indication). Two, because it’s from a certain someone in his family who he’s fond of.

Dear Yoongi,

Is written on the top of the not so neat written paper.

Son,

I know you might hate me for this.

Keep reading

A Good Thing

“Bobby, you can’t keep doing that to him.”
Bob raises his eyebrows, putting down his fork. “Doing what, Alicia? Corralling our son into talking about his crush?”
“Exactly.”

Or, A fic about Bob and Alicia noticing Jack’s feelings for Bitty before even he does.


Bob Zimmermann is kind of messy, only a bit of a smart ass, and just a tad hard of hearing. Yet even without perfect hearing Bob can’t miss the affection in his son’s voice when talking about a certain line-mate.

Bob Zimmermann is many things, but he is no idiot.

“Did you get that paper done for your…what was it again- american pie class?”

Bob looks over his shoulder just in time to see Alicia send an appraising look from the couch. He catches a hint of a smile.

He winks back and she rolls her eyes in return.

Bob turns again to the large window, the white light blinding him for a moment. The large expanse of grass is still littered with snow, lining the way down to their lake. A blank sky hugs the horizon.

“Women, food, and American culture, Papa.”

“Right. So how’d you do on the paper? Did Eric help you out?”

Keep reading

Through the Years (Part 5)

Summary: Through mysterious circumstances, you find yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived 70 years in the past.

Word Count: 1,116

“Through the Years” Masterlist

A/N: BOOM. Here’s my inbox. :) Also, there may be some inconsistencies. Sorry.

Originally posted by ariesw1493


2011

Not knowing when the last letter would come was torturous for you. Refusing to interact with anyone outside of the normal socialization you had to go through at work, you tried to find some solace in the letters you kept in the wooden box, remembering the innocence by which you got to know the man you now were learning to love.

But he’d be yanked out of your hands soon.

Keep reading

100 Dialogue Prompts: Part 2

We did it amigos. Another list! I am so grateful that you all are sharing your ideas to help inspire others (faith in humanity restored)

  1. “Where is my fucking pudding?!”
  2. “I thought we agreed to never use butter for that reason again…”
  3. “Well if it’s the guy who never shuts up about toilet paper!”
  4. “Honey, did you see my sniper rifle?”
  5. “Oops…”
  6. “God damn it he died. Whatever. Just leave him there.”
  7. “Listen, I know you’re upset, but please put down the baking soda before someone gets hurt.”
  8. “Look, about the monkey…”
  9. “I don’t understand! I only used a finger.”
  10. “It’s not as hard as you think, I promise.”
  11. “well this is what i call hell of a night”
  12. “How could an entire school disappear?”
  13. “What do you mean the brownies are "not quite brownies”?“
  14. "Yes, I understand that its cool, but why does your toaster have wings?” “Well its alive of course. It flies.”
  15. “Don’t turn that on!”
  16. “Wait…I’m also- technically- underage and you’re a stranger…should I be screaming also?”
  17. “I though you meant "literally” metaphorically. “
  18. "Ok so don’t get mad but I might have started a war.”
  19. “Good morning… I see the assassins failed again.”
  20. “You’re a murderer, how are you working at a hospital?”
  21. “That cat just stole my cereal!”
  22. “Did you see that? Please tell me you saw it.”
  23. “Hey, can you stop shooting people right now? We’re trying to sleep.”
  24. “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS KEITH!”
  25. “If you think I’m leaving you and your demon eyes and evil horns you’re wrong.”
  26. “What do you mean, this isn’t Earth?”
  27. “Damn it, ____! Not peanuts again!”
  28. “Why did I just press the big red button?”
  29. “So tell me again why this dead body is being sent to Goodwill?”
  30. “Lucifer, I know that we said we would share rent but you never said anything about your brother living with us.”
  31. “God dammit, I’m supposed to be a bat! Why the hell am I a possum, Karen?!”
  32. “Sarah, where’s the dog?” “Up in space?”
  33. “You had only one job and it wasn’t even a difficult task, but seriously, how did you end up like this!?”
  34. “Well I never said I WASN’T going to kill the bartender …”
  35. “I mean, it was only a small eldritch being, so it wasn’t that bad…”
  36. “Hold me back bro!”
  37. “I think there’s a new lifeform evolving in my fridge.”
  38. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
  39. “Can we have lunch now, or do you still want to continue looking at dead people?”
  40. “I can’t believe you ate my cheese…we’re over”
  41. “Sometimes I wonder why we’re still friends.” “Because I turned you into a cyborg after being shredded by an explosion and you owe me.” “…Fair enough.”
  42. “Well, I didn’t quite expect to wake up pregnant either and yet… here we are, so can you please pass me that can of bread?”
  43. “Ok, I know I said ‘You can throw a hairbrush at them’, but I didn’t actually mean it!”
  44. “When I told you to feed the dog I didn’t expect you to feed him the neighbors cat.”
  45. “Clearly, you’ve never gotten rid of a body before…”
  46. “This sort of thing never happened when I was dating your brother.”
  47. Sometimes, I wonder about you. And then I worry.“
  48. ” Wait, wait, wait, start from the very beginning. how did you manage to set the house on fire with that??“
  49. "For fucks sake, dude, how many times do I have to tell you that that’s not what penises are for?”
  50. “One woman’s terrorist is another woman’s freedom fighter.”
  51. “This isn’t right… the humans shouldn’t be able to move on their own.”
  52. “Why is unicorn blood on our shopping list?”
  53. “Must you unhinge your jaw like that when you eat? It’s disgusting.”
  54. “You’ve violated the law, my trust, and your friend. Tell me, why should I believe anything you say?”
  55. “No, no don’t open the fridge, I need to keep they eyeballs cold.”
  56. “did he break his jaw again by falling down a flight of stairs?” “Passive aggressive much?”
  57. “For the last time, put the declaration of independence back!”
  58. "That isn’t permanent, right?”
  59. “You know, ripping someone’s beating heart right out of their chest with your bare hand looks cool in anime, but irl it’s just unsanitary…”
  60. “She didn’t tell you” “Tell me what” “He’s dead”
  61. “But his dad is an asshole–” “HIS AUTHOR IS AN ASSHOLE”
  62. “You are here and you haven’t tried to kill me yet. You must want something from me.”
  63. “The salesperson made a flying tentacle monster sound a lot more alluring, I swear!”
  64. “Okay…the radiator just growled at me”
  65. “Dude, were you listening to me? Why are you barking?” “I’m not barking. I thought YOU were barking!”
  66. “How did you get that bump on your lip”
  67. “Buddy. You need to chill, and put that knife away before I get out my gun.”
  68. “ ” I dare you to take your shirt off" “ no” “ I doubledare you” “No” “I tripledare you” “ god dammit Steve , im not wearing a Shirt!”“
  69. "Why the fuck are there founding fathers in our living room”
  70. “Girls only say 'I will not dignify that with a response.’ when they’ve done the thing you’ve just accused them of.” “Do you know this, because you’ve done it?” “I will not dignify that with a response.”
  71. “They think we’re terrible but really we’re only mediocre”
  72. “You’d think by now we’d stop bringing death into these things. Look at them, they have anxiety!”
  73. “Ok, first of all asshat, stop touching me. Second, that is never going to work out! Third, stop TOUCHING me.”
  74. “So if I do understand, you’re telling me that you created insects robots. The same one that destroyed the city. ”
  75. “Why is THIS in your fridge? This is some serious contraband.”
  76. “Please tell me you’re joking about marrying the bastard’s son we call Satan.” “ Don’t talk about your mother like that!!”
  77. “Did you explode the microwave again?!”
  78. "Honey where’s the dog?” “Like I said, I’m making a smoothie.”
  79. “Fifteen bucks you can’t hook up with Satan.” “Make it twenty.”
  80. “I don’t know, maybe because he has some semblance of taste?
  81. "What could possibly make you think eating three tons of cheese for the mice in radiation-test labs was okay?!”
  82. “Who actually let the dogs out?”
  83. “Hey, you don’t know how many bodies are buried in my backyard.”
  84. “I told you to kill me.” “I did. Just this morning.” “Well, shit!”
  85. “So… This isn’t the end, is it? I mean I still want to hang out with you at least. Maybe go for another space adventure, hm?”
  86. “I’m sorry, it was the HEAT OF THE MOMENT,”
  87. "Hey, wanna go out for a romantic moonlight killing spree?”
  88. “So, you’re into …..? Huh, I never would’ve known.”
  89. “Did you hear that scream?” “Yes, I’m the one who screamed”
  90. “What are you doing?”
  91. “But really, why would anyone need two dozen armadillos?”
  92. “You can’t keep 'solving’ your problems by going to another dimension!”
  93. “I still can’t believe you assassinated a unicorn.”
  94. “Wait, you have FOUR knives?” “No, no. I have four knives ON me.”
  95. “I’ve killed a man using only a copy of Hamlet and a computer mouse. I am NOT afraid of you!" 
  96. "What the hell are those?”
  97. “Are you sure you’re not an arsonist?”
  98. “I know, right? You’d suspect any of them of secretly being an alien, but not…”
  99. “Why didn’t you stop?”
  100. “So, start explaining why there are dozens of puppies in my guest room.”

Let’s make another list. Part 3! Leave a reply and don’t forget the double quotes “”. I want to give everyone a chance to contribute to our community. So as always, one prompt per amigo. Dankje! 

Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.

Masterlist linked in bio.


The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.

“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”

They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.

They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.

It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.

She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.

He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.

Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.

She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.

For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.

But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.

He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.

And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.  

His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.

His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.

He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.

“You never told me she was going to be here.“

His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.

When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.

She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.

By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.

So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.

She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”

Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.

“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”

Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.

And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.

But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.

“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”

Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.

“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”

Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.

“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”

Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.

Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”

Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.

Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.

And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.

“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”

Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.

Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.

“Shut up, Gem.“

She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.

“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”

No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.

“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.

“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”

Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.

Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.

When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.

When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.

He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.

“Hey, stranger.”

Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.

He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.

His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.

“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”

She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.

“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”

Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”

But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.

“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.

He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.

Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.

“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.

Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“

“Kendall?”

Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.

Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.

This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.

“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”

Last night.

Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.

“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”

She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?

She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle. 

“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.

His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.

Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”

“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.

“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.

“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”

He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.

When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.

“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.

She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.

“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”

The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.

“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”

She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.

“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“

“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.

She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.

“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”

Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.

Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.

“Mum—“

“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.

“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”

Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.

She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.

He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.

“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?” 

He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.

“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”

Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.

“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”

His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”

She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“


“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.

“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“

Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.

“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”

His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.

Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.

His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.

“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”

She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.

“Yes, please.

His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.

Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.

They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.

She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“

Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.

There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.

“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”

His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.

“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.

“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”

His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.

“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.

He kisses her again.

“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“

Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.

“Trust me, I always knew.”

Meta Post: How did Shiro get his scar?

So a few days ago I did a post about Shiro’s prosthetic arm and the response was amazing! Many of you also showed interest in me doing one on Shiro’s scar as well, so here we are. This one took me a lot longer to make because it’s not as cut-and-dry as the arm. There’s a lot of variables and speculation. We can’t really know for sure what DID happen, but we can most likely deduce what DIDN’T happen. (WARNING–I’m going to discuss some graphic stuff, blood/gore/injuries, etc. So be aware.)

In this post we’ll go through the possibilities and see which ones are the most likely to occur. There will be one numbered point per general option, and I will narrow them down to the ones I think could happen. I would love for you to share your thoughts on the matter! At one point most of us, myself included, assumed Shiro got the scar on his face during battle, so this brings us to the first option:

1. The scar is the result of a sword or other blade swipe during battle

Let’s take a look at what would have to happen for this option to be the case. There’s an easy way to visualize this in 10 seconds or less.

Keep reading

The Tea is Decaf

[ao3]

3.7k words
Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen
Based on this text post

Castiel just barely slips out the door into the hallway and turns the knob as he closes it so the latch doesn’t make a sound. The light is always on in the hallway, and Dean always wakes up if too much of it pours into his room, so Castiel has mastered the art of slipping through the smallest space possible.

He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s in the hallway.

A small voice to his right lets out an amused laugh. He turns to see a particularly tiny woman wearing a very large plaid shirt and nothing else. Well, he supposes she could be wearing shorts under the shirt. It really is very big on her.

“You must be Castiel,” she says rather loudly, mispronouncing his name just slightly.

He walks over to her with a finger to his lips.

She puts her hand over her mouth in embarrassment before signing, I’m deaf.

Castiel mouths an “oh” before dropping his head and laughing. He then pops his head back up fast and mouths, “Are you Eileen?”

She nods eagerly and signs, You’ve heard about me?

Sam has mentioned you a few times, he signs back. He says you’re a very good hunter.

Her face lights up. You’re damn right I am. Still, that’s very sweet of him.

So, are you two…? Castiel looks back toward Sam’s room and then down at Eileen’s shirt.

Eileen’s eyes widen in embarrassment. He’s asleep. I was just going to the bathroom.

I was heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Would you like some?

Is there caffeine in it?

Not at 4 in the morning.

Eileen smiles and gives him a thumbs up before moving past him toward the bathroom. Castiel watches her go for a second before it hits him.

He looks down at his plain black t-shirt and too-small boxer briefs and wonders if Eileen could tell that these clothes aren’t his. And that he came out of Dean’s room instead of one of the countless other extra bedrooms in the bunker.

By the time Eileen pads into the kitchen, Castiel has two mugs ready with decaf teabags in them and he’s standing at the stove staring at the pot so he can pull it off the burner before it whistles.

It’s only a minute longer before Cas pours the water into the mugs and takes a seat across from Eileen at the kitchen table.

You’re an angel, aren’t you? Eileen asks as her tea steeps.

Castiel nods as he takes a drink.

Does that mean you don’t sleep?

Sometimes I do. I didn’t feel like it tonight.

Is Dean good in bed?

Keep reading

The Reader and the Writer (Part 3)

Originally posted by juptern

Part one here    Part two here

Anon requests: Will you please do part 3 of the reader and the writer

You’re writing is so amazing, it’s what keeps me alive 😂😍 so thank you for doing such an amazing job and I hope you’re having an amazing day 💜 And I was wondering if you consider writing a part 3 of The Reader and The Writer someday? Because I’d love to read more of it 🙈

Please please PLEASE do a Part 3 to the reader and the writer? It’s amazing x

Omg! Part 3 please gor he reader and the writer 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE

PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER

Part 3 of Reader and Writer?? Cause you are too good to us??? Like thank you??? 💞I swoon for your writing 💞

I NEED PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER ASAAAPPPP

The Reader and the Writer (part 2) was amazing and so are all ouf your writings ! I can’t wait for a part 3 !

Will you do a part 3 of the reader and the writer??

I know you just posted but WOW I NEED A PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER GIRL YOU TOO GOOD!!!

OMFG PLEASE PART 3 OF THE READER AND THE WRITER AAAAHHH I’M SO GLAD I REQUESTED IT YAAASSS YOUR WRITING IS PERFECT AND AMAZING I LOVE YOU <3

I!!! AM!!! SHOOK!!!! I NEED PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER WOWOWOWOW ITS AMAZING

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: The reader returns, and she offers the writer some explanations that he’s been waiting for

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,041

A/N: It’s here! I am so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long, I had so much going on this week and I had barely any time to write at all. I hope this makes up for it, enjoy!


Jughead didn’t expect for (Y/N) to return to Pop’s; in fact, he thought she’d leave town.  However, the following night he was proven wrong when she walked in and sat across him in their usual booth.

“You’re here,” he stated. (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“You expected otherwise?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

“Well, to be fair, I hadn’t seen you in about a month before yesterday,” Jughead defended himself.  (Y/N) sucked in a breath and went to contradict him, but she realized he was right, so she shut her mouth.  They sat in silence, both of them avoiding eye contact with each other.  Finally, (Y/N) sighed and broke the quiet.

“So I’m guessing you want to talk about it,” she said, not even bothering to pull out a book.  Jughead nodded as he closed his laptop.

“I think I deserve a bit more information than the fact that you were born in Riverdale,” he grumbled.

“You do,” she agreed.

“So why did you think that was important to tell me?” Jughead began the interrogation. “Out of all the things to say to stop me from leaving, why that?”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” (Y/N) attempted to joke, but Jughead didn’t even crack a smile.  She sighed and continued.  "I don’t know, because that’s the beginning. I’m a reader, Jug, I like to start at the beginning of a story.“

"And so your beginning started here.”

“Yes.”

“But then you moved somewhere else?” Jughead asked.  (Y/N) nodded.  "Why?“

"Because we had to,” she responded.  "My parents were… unpleasant people, to say the least.  Bad people tend to mingle, and thus my parents met the Blossoms.“  Jughead’s head perked up at the mention of the family.

"The Blossoms?” he echoed.  "As in Jason Blossom?“

"No, the other notorious Blossom family in Riverdale,” she rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word.  "Yes, Jason Blossom’s family.“  Jughead’s silence signaled for her to continue.  “My family and their family had this long-lasting feud for as long as I can remember.”

“So is that why you left?” he asked.  “Because of the feud?”

“Yes,” she answered tentatively, “and no.  It’s complicated.  You see, I didn’t leave Riverdale with my parents.”  (Y/N) paused for a moment, biting her lip.  “My parents were murdered.”  Jughead’s eyes widened as he realized the severity of her situation.

“The Blossoms did it?” he immediately assumed.  (Y/N) shook her head.

“Not that we know of,” she replied.  “They never figured out who did it.  Yes, the Blossoms were high on the suspect list, but personally, I don’t think it was them.  They’re too snobbish to actually murder someone.”  The pair fell into a silence, Jughead attempting to soak up all the information he was just given.  (Y/N) lazily glanced around the dinner, scanning the strangers’ faces.

“Why’d you come back?” Jughead spoke up.  (Y/N)’s eyes flicked back to his face.

“They were about to sell our old home,” she shrugged.  “My aunt was infuriated, so she packed up all our things and moved here.” Jughead had so many more questions swirling around his mind, but when he observed (Y/N)’s face, he saw how tired and deflated she looked.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “this is too much for you.  I shouldn’t have pressured you to tell me everything at once.”

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head.  “I want to tell you, I… you deserve to know.”  Jughead reached across the table, grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, and gazed at her in a manner she couldn’t quite distinguish.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she.  They just sat there in the booth, on a quiet day in Pop’s, Jughead holding (Y/N)’s hand and she was letting him.  Without speaking, she understood what he was trying to tell her: there was nothing left to say.


For the next two weeks, neither Jughead nor (Y/N) said anything to each other.  They still went to Pop’s every night, and they sat together at the same booth.  But (Y/N) always had a book, and Jughead always had his laptop.  Frequently, when one of them wasn’t looking, the other would glance up and stare for just a moment.

On a slow Tuesday, Veronica entered Pop’s.  She was only there to pick up the food she and her mom had ordered, but she noticed (Y/N) and Jughead sitting together at a booth, and so she sped over there.

“You’re back,” she noted, sitting down next to (Y/N).  She glanced up, putting Frankenstein down, and shot Veronica a timid smile.

“I’ve been back for a few weeks,” she responded.  Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

“Really?” she questioned, shifting her gaze to Jughead.  He didn’t look up from his computer.  (Y/N) awkwardly nodded, turning back to her novel.  Veronica glanced back and forth between (Y/N) and Jughead, waiting for one of them to say something.  “Do you guys ever talk?”

“It’s not always necessary,” Jughead replied, rolling his eyes.

“Well yeah,” Veronica shrugged, “but you guys are dead silent.  Neither of you have spoken to each other since I got here.”  When neither of them replied to her comment, Veronica understood that she was unwanted and left.

The two sat in silence for another hour before Jughead interrupted it by slamming his laptop shut.

“Okay, I’ve spent two weeks thinking about what to say,” he started, catching (Y/N)’s attention.  She lifted her eyes from her book and stared at Jughead, puzzled.  “But I don’t know.  I don’t know what to say!  How do I respond to the fact that your parents were murdered?”

“You don’t have to sa-”

“Yes I do!” Jughead interjected.  “Because we’re… friends, we’re friends.  And I’m supposed to say something to make you feel better.”  (Y/N) tilted her head sideways as she gazed at Jughead, trying to think of a reply.

“You still have a question,” she finally said, “don’t you?  And you didn’t want to say anything else because you didn’t want to tempt your own curiosity.”

“No,” Jughead shook his head, “no, I-”

“Just ask,” (Y/N) stopped him.  “Just ask me, Jug.”  He inhaled sharply, and examined her face.  There was no doubt, no hesitation; just determination with a hint of anger. Jughead sighed, giving into (Y/N)’s, and his own curiosity’s, demands.

“What’s your real name?”

Part four here

the blue notebooks

time travel au

pairing: jimin | reader
genre: fluff, angst
word count: 8.575
warnings: none
author’s note: this story will have a sequel since there is much, much more I want to tell, but I wanted to keep it under 10k and I figured this part worked well as a standalone. please enjoy :)


You meet Park Jimin after a particularly rough landing.

You wish time traveling was as easy as the books like to describe, or as beautifully romantic as the movies depict. It is a concept that’s been overly embroidered with advantages that do not exist — and even if normal humans see it as a fortuitous skill, one they long to have, they rarely realize that having a normal life is out of the question for your kind. Even so, there is no point in wishing for something that won’t happen in this lifetime, not with the time traveling genes burning strong within your veins.

Keep reading

Liability (Part 1)

A/N: FINALLY posting something. This is based off a recent even that happened in my life and I kinda needed to write it all down…let me know what you think! Especially since I haven’t written in forever! 

Dean x Reader, Sam, Jody, Claire

Word Count: 1000+

Warnings: Angst, Swearing

The two of you had avoided each other for weeks.

What went from hurtful words spewed at you in the heat of the moment, to you needing time, which then eventually led to the art of stonewalling that the two of you perfected in. And now here you were with this awful knot in your throat, your mind curled in on itself, two hands firmly holding the steering wheel, driving in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. You couldn’t even remember what the two of you had been arguing about in the first place, but the overwhelming sense of not being of any use to him, of being an inconvenience, a liability, was enough to have you putting as much distance as you possibly could from Lebanon, Kansas.

Keep reading

In Control - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 6,977

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Both Receiving), Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Jeep Sex

Notes: Guess what guys! This was a request! I absolutely loved this idea. This was so fun to write. And I couldn’t wait to get it out. So I will probably be regretting life at work seeing as it is 3:30 in the morning right now. BUT THIS WAS SO WORTH THE 13 HOURS OF WRITING. I hope my lil nonnie (though I DO know who requested this, I will not divulge) loves this ❤️

Request: can you do a stiles smut where the reader is possessed by a powerful goddess or the reader is a demigod and she can regain her powers/stay in control by having sex with someone? and that stiles is her anchor? TYSM ❤️

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist linked in bio


Harry watches the wall clock as he waits patiently on his couch, counting the minutes until Y/n finally wakes up.

He’s barely slept all night, feeling a mix of anxiousness and misery as he thought of all the outcomes that could happen today. He also found himself looking at Y/n all night, watching her in her calmest state of mind and feeling a sense of tranquility as he sees her in her most beautiful form.

He could never get tired of it—admiring her in her sleep. But as the morning passed and the late afternoon started approaching, Harry didn’t know what the hell was going on.

She was still asleep, crashed on top of him as snores raided her mouth and the only movement being the slight rise and fall of her chest against his. He started to worry, solely for the fact that she slept at a completely reasonable time last night and was known to be an early riser. And since he barely got a blink of sleep, he knows she didn’t wake up for a second during the night.

At first, when it hit 12 hours since she’d fallen asleep, he tried to brush hair out of her face in an attempt to wake her from her slumber. Nothing came to his avail, however, when all he got was a slight shake of her head and a small smacking of her lips.

When the afternoon started to approach, he started to move his fingertips along her back and neck. But again, nothing; just a slight groan and a movement of her hips to get away from the sensation.

He gave up after that, helpless in disturbing her sleep and trying to get some sort of reassurance in the midst of his worrying. He really needed something, because his nerves were getting the best of him and he needed to rid the anxiety building inside of him.

That’s when he decided to call Gabby.

“She fell asleep at around 10:00 last night and it’s nearly 2:00 now. She’s barely moved, she’s still right on top of me and doesn’t even flinch when I turn. I’m really worried.”

Harry lifts his hand to her hair, softly brushing the knots out with his fingers, waiting to see if there’s any sudden movement. But there’s nothing, just the movements of her soft breath and the occasional repositioning of her neck.

“She’s barely slept in months, Harry. She’s not fully comfortable here, no matter how much she tries to tell me she is. There are nights she doesn’t sleep at all. She’s completely incapable of being alone anymore, she’s always thinking and it doesn’t let her calm down in the slightest, you know? And mixed with everything that happened last night, she’s probably extremely exhausted. Just let her get her sleep, yeah? She really needs it, trust me. Besides, you being there is helping her in the most.”

He looks down at Y/n, where her cheek is pressed against his chest as her eyes are closed in a dream. She looks most beautiful this way. It’s the peaceful, angelic side of her that he always remember her being.

She looks safe, too—away from any potential hurting and pressed so close against him as if he were the protector of her heart. He almost laughs at the irony of it all, how she’s the exact opposite of peaceful and nowhere near protected from any harm—especially in his arms.

And there’s a part of him that wishes he could stay in this moment forever, holding her to him as he watches her in her must vulnerable state. She doesn’t push him away, or tell him to stop staring at her, or cry because he still can’t figure out what to say. She’s oblivious to his admiration, and the second she regains consciousness in her reality, he knows this moment can’t last much longer, no matter how badly he wants it to.

“Yeah, of course I’ll let her sleep. You think I can move from underneath her without waking her? Might make her some food, can feel her stomach growl.”

“Yes, please make her something. She gets really upset sometimes and forgets to eat. They’ll be days I have to remind her. She really needs you to provide for her right now, more than anything. She shouldn’t wake up, though.”

It doesn’t take much convincing to get Harry up from the couch. Although it was a bit of a struggle to maneuver himself from underneath Y/n’s body and out of her tight hold on him—especially between her occasional whimpers and groans from the sudden movements—he managed to do so without waking her up too much.

He decides to make her her favorite breakfast, as well. He knows it won’t distract her from the problems they have to face, but it’s something—it’s something as opposed to all the nothingness he’s been giving her.

It doesn’t take much longer than half an hour before Y/n finally wakes up from her slumber. She’s confused upon her awakening, groggy and the remaining amount of exhaustion still present in her body.

She’s comforted, though, when she acknowledges that she’s back home with the aroma of breakfast filling the air. It reminds her of old times—mornings of her anniversaries with Harry and mornings of their birthdays or purposeful events. It’s everything that she’s missed and it brings a soft smile to her face. Only for a second, though.

“Afternoon.” He smiles softly, eyes watching her every movement as she leans against the doorway of the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, he would have greeted her with a proper kiss and held her against him for a while; but as he observes her red eyes, her tear-stained cheeks, and her overall broken down structure, he knows not to overstep his boundaries.

Y/n frowns, watching what would normally be the most heartwarming sight of her life—Harry cooking in the kitchen of their home, a smile on his face while the sun peeks through the windows—but is now only seeing it as something that could have been.

She wonders if this is how he spent his mornings with Jessica.

He frowns slightly, too, when he sees her in the way she is now. There’s absolutely no life to her. He can tell that the Y/n that he knew is long gone—now replaced by a much more miserable soul. It almost brings tears to his eyes, seeing how much damage and destruction he’s caused onto her. He feels as if he’s taken away Y/n’s heart entirely, only leaving her to suffer through the loss.

“I, uh—" he mutters softly, realizing that he’s been staring at her for longer than he’s probably supposed to, “I made you some chocolate chip pancakes. I know it’s a little after lunch time but Gabby told me you haven’t been eating as much and well, I kind of figured I’d make you something I know you can’t resist.”

She wants to appreciate the gesture, she does. She wishes that she could look past the gloomy side of the situation, and instead focus on the fact they’re together again. Even if it’s the bare minimum—where Harry does all the speaking while she just listens with a stupid pout on her face—there’s a reflection of what their relationship was like before their time apart, and she feels as if it should be making her feel something other than sick to her stomach.

But she just can’t, no matter how hard she tries. She can’t quite understand how he’s doing so well. Not a part of him resembles her ruined self. He’s so put together, even after everything that’s happened. He’s still alive, which is almost the exact opposite of how she feels; and she can’t help but to wonder if he ever felt the way she did—broken and helpless. She wonders if he even cared.

And if there’s anything that can make her feel worse than she already does, it’s if Harry continues to pity her—to treat her like a charity case when he was the reason for all of this. He should be the one sulking from his mistakes, on his knees begging for mercy, but it’s her. She’s suffering the pain for the both of them and she doesn’t know how much longer she can bare it.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” She whispers, tears flowing from her eyes and she’s genuinely surprised that there’s still some left to cry.

Harry’s heart stops as he watches her break again. He doesn’t want to witness her in that form again, he doesn’t even know if he can; and imagining the pain that must be bursting through her veins is only making this harder for him.

“You’re just going to pretend like everything is okay? While I stand here, practically begging you to say something to me about all this, you just continue to show off how perfectly fine you are?”

“What?” He asks, nearly dumbfounded by her accusations. “No, baby. That’s not—no.“

He doesn’t know exactly where all this came from, considering there isn’t any part of him that’s feeling any sort of sanity. He’s been suffering, too, no matter how much he tries to hide it for her sake. The masking his hurt has been hiding under has been wearing thin over the past couple of weeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to show her how much this affected him.

He was always the one to stay strong for the both of them. No matter what came their way, he was always the one to bottle up all of his emotions and get them through whatever it was bringing them down. He couldn’t break, especially not in front of her. He has to be the one to mend them back together; he doesn’t have a choice, considering he was the one who broke it up in the first place.

“You think I’m fine? You actually think I’m okay with all this? You haven’t even—you haven’t even seen me before last night, and even then I was a wreck. Y/n, how could you even think like that?”

“Look at you!” She yells, eyes widened and teeth clenched as she speaks. Her hands are at her head, pressing at her temples in complete hysteria and despair. “All fucking pretty and perfect! I don’t see anything wrong with you, like there’s nothing gripping at your throat or feeding your insides with the guilt that should be eating you fucking alive right now!”

“Y/n—“

“And look at me! Just take a goddamn look at me and how fucked up I am! Do you see what the problem is? Do you see how none of this is fair to me? Fuck you and fuck your precious happiness, and fuck your selfish decisions and just fuck you, Harry! Fuck you!

Her voice is harsh and loud enough to nearly echo from the walls. The cries and whimpers haven’t stopped, either, and there’s a certain type of tension building between them that’s nearly sucking the air from their throats.

But she’s not stopping, not yet. She still has so much to say and nothing is getting in her way, not now.

“How did it feel, Harry?! How did it feel to love on some other woman while your ex-girlfriend was alone and breaking on her bed?! Was it nice?! How did it feel?!”

Harry’s jaw clenches once the words leave her mouth, and his hands are balling to fists at the side of his thighs. He’s frustrated—frustrated because she’s so blinded by her own pain that she hasn’t eve acknowledged his. And the way she’s making it sound—like he doesn’t love her, like he doesn’t care—almost makes him throw up.

As much as he fucked up, he never imagined to be perceived as such a villain. She’s looking down on him, digging into his insecurities and accusing him of being a man he knows he’ll never be capable of being, and he doesn’t like it one bit. As much as he had done wrong, he never found pleasure in her pain and he doesn’t even want to think about how that thought processed through her brain.

“Are you being serious right now? You really need to tell me this isn’t some sort of sick joke.”

Her eyes narrow up at him, and for the first time since he’s seen her, she starts to laugh.

It’s a habit she’s obtained whenever she tries to hold back all the anger boiling inside of her. It’s a rare occasion, considering she never really gets mad, especially at him. But she’s on the edge of complete rage, and she feels it building inside of her.

She still has tears falling from her eyes, and they’re both unsure whether it’s from the laughter, the pain, the anger, or all three of them.

“You think I’m joking? You want to hear a real joke, Harry? You saw me. You saw me at the grocery store, you saw me looking at Jessica wearing our shirt and you didn’t do anything! You did absolutely nothing, you just fucking stood there and watched me fall apart. What kind of twisted shit was that, Harry? Did it make you feel good about yourself? Or was it a nice image to look back on while you fucked Jessica the following night?”

All his frustration subsided when her voice started to crack and shake between her words. Her emotions are scattered, along with his, but he can’t help but feel an aching in his chest when he sees how helpless she looks.

Looking back at it, Y/n gets the same exact feeling she did that morning—betrayed, broken, and completely hated. There is no other explanation for it. He had to have hated her, for whatever reason it may be, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

The Harry that loved her would never leave her to fend for herself. He wasn’t the same man she remembered him being. The kindhearted, selfless, loving man she fell in love with was not the man she came to contact with—standing with a mysterious girl, showing her off in the t-shirt that meant everything to him and Y/n.

He had to have hated her.

“Is that—“ his voice cracks, and he has to swallow the lump building in his throat before he continues to speak, “Is that what you think? That I just watched because I’m heartless?”

She sighs, shaking her head softly. She crosses her arms at her chest, tucking her hands beneath them as her eyes drift away from his.

She never thought he was heartless, but there must have been something he had against her for him to not say anything to her. She deserved an explanation, or even a half-assed apology at the slightest. But she got nothing. All she got silence and heartbreak and everything inside of her knew that she didn’t deserve it.

There had to have been something.

“No, I just—I never felt so hated before. It was like—like you found some sort of comfort in watching me suffer. You never did that, Harry. You never did that to me, not in all the years that I’ve known you and knowing that you didn’t want me anymore was like all the life was sucked out of me all at once.”

She closes her eyes as she sobs, clutching the fabric of her shirt in her hands right where her heart is.

“Just imagine feeling your heart stop beating and your lungs collapsing all at once. I thought you hated me, Harry. Nothing was worse than feeling that, nothing.”

An inhumane sound emits from Harry’s chest—something between a sob and a growl—a sound she’s never heard before and it’s utterly pitiful.

He’s never thought of it in that way. The thought of Y/n thinking he’s hated her never crossed his mind, always just assuming that she was so upset because Jessica crept her way into his life. But the more he thinks about it, all the more it makes sense.

When he saw Dan wearing Harry’s ring, all the hope that Y/n was ever going to love him again was ripped away from him. The feeling of betrayal and heartbreak was so overwhelming because while he was suffering from the loss of her, she was finding comfort in somebody else and nothing brought him more pain than thinking she didn’t love him anymore.

And that’s exactly what he did to her. She was waiting for him—waiting for him to come back and fight for their relationship. She was alone and hurt all throughout the nights while he was finding pleasure in another woman to get him through the pain.

He’s put her through so much that she didn’t deserve, and he doesn’t know how he can live with himself for it.

He whimpers, tentatively reaching out for the hand that’s decorated with his rose ring, and slowly brings her against his chest. She buries her face in his t-shirt as she weeps out the rest of her tears, tugging at the back of his t-shirt in agony.

“No, baby. No. Please don’t ever think that. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say, and everything that I wanted to say was getting so scrambled inside of my brain that I couldn’t even understand what was happening. There were so many things, my love. There were so many things I wanted to say to you but I just couldn’t, and it’ll be something I have to live with for the rest of my life.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her a little tighter in his arms as he brushes out her hair between his fingers.

She feels his tears at the top of her head, but she doesn’t pay any attention to it. All she can wrap her head around is that Harry’s holding her again, shielding her from any other hurting that could get to her. And as much as she does want to push him away, she can’t, because she can finally fucking breathe again.

“And I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for all of this. I could never hate you, my love. I love you so goddamn much, you have to believe me. You don’t deserve this pain, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever it takes to mend you, okay? If you give me the chance, I’ll take the time to fix you. You just have to work with me.”

She nods against his chest, pushing him away from her a little bit so that she can look at him in the eyes. They’re red and soaked with tears, but she’s missed them all too much and they still make her weak in the knees.

“This will be a slow process, do you understand me? There’s a lot of lost trust and a lot of work that needs to be done when it comes to our relationship. I’m not risking this again, so we’re taking this slowly. I’ll stay at Gabby’s for another few weeks until I can fully trust you again. You’re not pulling that shit on me where you call Jessica when you’re lonely, you hear me? You call me. We’re in this together and we’re in this for a long time, but we have to do this my way.”

He nods feverishly, closing his eyes as he does so. His fingers dig into her back as he exhales strongly, almost as if releasing a breath he’s been holding in.

“We’ll go at your pace, sweetheart, I promise.”

She smiles softly—a true, heartwarming smile that Harry swears he could look at for the rest of his life. It somehow mends the ache in his chest and he starts to cry from happiness, this time, and he’s never been so relieved in his life.

“We’re really doing this, huh?” She giggles, running her fingertips along his back. “We’re really starting this all over again?“

He smiles down at her, admiring the woman he’s loved with every bit of his heart. She’s never looked so goddamn perfect, either, in this moment of complete serendipity.

“Yeah, we are.”

Lies and Family Ties

Dean X Reader; Mary tells Dean that the reader cheated on him to stop him finding out about her (Mary) stealing from Ramiel.

Originally posted by soluscheese

Knocking on the door of the bunker, you shift on your heels outside of the place you used to call home. Palms sweaty, heart racing and you’re sure that you can smell the nervousness radiating from you.

The door opens, your now ex-boyfriend looking anything but jolly to see you on his doorstep. “Sorry, I already gave all my change to the homeless guy down the street.”

“I’m just here to get the rest of my stuff, then you’ll be clear of me for good.” Standing up straight, arms crossed against your chest, you hold your head up high, refusing to feel belittled by the man who tossed you away so easily.

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip arrogantly, a sarcastic smile on his face as he pulls open the door, inviting you inside begrudgingly. “Make it quick. Don’t take anything you didn’t pay for.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” you spit, striding past him angrily, the ache in your soul becoming even more prominent from being this close to Dean, yet knowing he’s no longer yours.

You pass Sam and Castiel in the kitchen, ignoring their judgemental gazes as you head to Dean’s room, to a bed that used to hold two bodies, not one.

Pushing all the memories within these walls away, you grab your suitcase from under the bed, flipping back the lid and throwing your belongings inside. You wanted to be out of this place as swiftly as you could be, your presence clearly unwanted.

“I’m surprised you had the nerve to show up here.” You look back over your shoulder, Mary leaning smugly against the door frame, your attention moving back to your suitcase. She was the reason you were packing in the first place, the lies she told Dean being the very statements to sever the ribbons of your relationship.

“Yeah? I’m surprised you’ve got the nerve to still be here.” you hiss, a bubble of laughter leaving her lips as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge, anger bubbling inside you. “Aren’t you afraid your web of lies will unravel?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart, my webs are perfectly crafted. My son will always believe his dear mommy over some worthless bitch.” Now it’s your turn to laugh, not a slither of humour in your tone. You skim your fingers over the white frame on the beside, the besotted couple grinning at the camera.

If someone had told you then, that just months down the line Mary would be alive and kicking, and she would be the very thing to rip your lover from your arms, you would’ve laughed in their face.

“You know what,” you spin around, your glare harsh enough to wound as you stare at the poisonous bitch in front of you. “I hope your boys never find out who you really are. It’d break them to know their mother almost killed their best friend.”

“Not only are you working for the British, but you disturbed the Prince of Hell, stole from him and then stood in silence as Castiel’s life drained from his eyes.”

Her expression turns colder as you taunt her, her lip quivering in anger, not being able to take the truth you’re dealing out. She makes her way towards you, fists clenching, as you speak aloud all the damage that she’s done. “Shut your mouth.”

You shake your head, standing up against her, refusing to cower under her wrath. “If you were my mom, I’d be wishing you’d have stayed on the ceiling.”

Smack! Your head sharply twists to the side as her hand makes contact with your cheek, smugness running through your veins with the knowledge that your words have hit home. “If you ever tell anybody about me stealing from Ramiel, I’ll cut your heart out.”

“She doesn’t need to tell me anything.” Mary jumps at the sound of the voice, your fingers rubbing your cheek, trying to soothe the sting. Dean enters the room, coming to stand by your side, his mother lost for words.

“Sweetheart, let me explain…” She trails off, the level of vexation in Dean’s eyes enough to shut her up. Her eyes move to you as you watch the scene unfold. “You little bitch-”

Dean pushes her back as she lunges for you, his broad figure standing protectively in front of your own, your heart clenching, hoping that maybe there is something left to salvage.

“I want you out of here, now. Don’t bother coming back.” Dean warns, the ice chill in his voice something you’d been faced with a few minutes before. Mary weighs up her options, before backing out of the room resentfully, a vengeful twinkle in her eyes.

Once she’s gone, you turn back to the task at hand, shoving your final few things into your suitcase, ignoring Dean’s burning stare on your back. You move around in silence, him not being brave enough to break it, and you wanting to hear an apology before anything else.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You freeze at the question, Dean’s voice timid as it should be. Throwing the shirt in your grasp onto the bed, you turn to face the older brother, not being able to believe his arrogance.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t remember you giving me a chance to say anything when you believed your mom’s bullshit lies over me.” He looks down at the floor as you scold him, your eyes beginning to glaze over with due to frustration.

“I’m sorry-” you cut him off with a scoff, his emerald eyes as glassy as your own as he lifts them upwards to meet you. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, tell him that everything is forgiven and you can go back to how it used to be.

“You weren’t sorry when you kicked me out in the pouring rain and called me a dirty whore.” The dam breaks, you cursing yourself as you turn your back on Dean, your fingers roughly swiping away the fallen tears.

You zip up your suitcase, thankful you’ll be alone in a few minutes and able to sob to your hearts content without prying eyes. “What are you doing? Don’t go.”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Dean?” you sniffle, grasping the handle of the case and holding the heavy object to your side. “I want you to be happy, and if that means me leaving, then so be it.”

You shove past the older Winchester, your chin quivering as you somehow hold in your cries. You let out a shaky breath as a hand grabs your arm, Dean’s warm touch stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay. All I want is for you to stay.” he pleads, his throat thick with emotion. You turn your head, his glassy eyes meeting your own, a desperate look on his face.

After what feels like hours of silence, you make your decision. “Five minutes. Let’s see how well you do.”

A/N - Thanks for all the support on my last Dean imagine, it was incredibleeeeeeee!!! Feel free to request :) now, gif before the imagine, or after??? Let me know! X

I Got You On My Mind [Part 3]

Jungkook Soulmate AU

[Part OnePrevious Part | Part Three | Next Part

Summary: Jungkook can feel when your entire world falls apart, and his shatters into a million more pieces.

Word count: 2k words

Originally posted by jungxook

JUNGKOOK’S POV

An immobilizing sense of panic shot through Jungkook, causing him to freeze. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and his vision became unfocused in his state of unadulterated fear. Immediately, Jungkook sensed that the sudden emotion was being transmitted through your soulmate bond, and soon fear wasn’t the only feeling Jungkook was contending with.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Jungkook thought helplessly. He moved through the crowd, leaving behind whichever girl he had been talking to, and tried to escape the confines of the party. The sense of panic he had been feeling had suddenly ceased, which was even more worrying. “Talk to me–are you alright? Fuck! Y/N!

By the time Jungkook reached the front door, he was covered in a sheen layer of sweat–in part from the heat of the party, and mostly because of his increasing worry. He burst through the door, lurching into the cool, night air.

“Y/N!” he bellowed, head swinging side to side as he searched for you. Cursing, Jungkook realized he had no idea where to even look. He couldn’t hear your thoughts, so relying on luck, he turned to his right and ran.

Jungkook sprinted down the empty road, his footsteps falling heavily and echoing through the silence. His lungs burned and his muscles ached, but the cold grip of fear around his heart kept him running.

In his mind, he could feel your presence slipping away. Even if you were silent, there was always a warm, comforting feeling of your presence. But now, it was being replaced with cold nothingness.

He prayed that you were safe–he knew that he had caused whatever had made you so panicked. Jungkook wished he could go back in time, stop you from leaving. Maybe even go back further, and stop you from hurting at all.

But he knew that it was useless to hope.

As Jungkook turned a corner, he was blinded by bright, flashing blue, red, and white lights. An ambulance was stalled in the middle of the road alongside a single car. Jungkook’s feet skidded to a stop as he stared at the scene unfolding before him.

“No,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Staggering forward, Jungkook’s eyes began to water with unshed tears. A man stood in his path, so Jungkook grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and spun him around. The man stared up at Jungkook, his eyes wide and his face pale. “What happened!?”

“T-there was an accident,” the man explained, his voice shaking. His eye’s darted to the right, so Jungkook’s followed.

On the ground, a girl lay sprawled on the cement in front of the parked car. Two paramedics were kneeling beside her, assessing her injuries as they prepared her body for the stretcher.

Jungkook knew immediately that it was you. His body moved forward on its own accord as Jungkook’s mind screamed.

“No,” he repeated, his voice becoming louder. It cracked as he spoke. The paramedics turned around, alarmed at the sight of the distressed boy.

“Sir, please stand back,” one of them said, standing up with his hands in front of him placatingly. “We need you to stay out of the way so we can get to the hospital.”

“She’s my soulmate!” Jungkook cried, surging forward to get closer to you. The paramedic sprung up, grabbing Jungkook by the shoulders and holding him back. “Let me see her! Is she alive? Oh god–tell me she’s alive!”

Jungkook’s hoarse cries filled the quiet night, his words becoming mangled together until they were indecipherable. Another pair of hands grabbed Jungkook and stopped him from struggling–he was pretty sure they belonged to the man who had hit you.

And god, Jungkook wanted to be angry with that man. He wanted to be furious. But Jungkook knew that everything was his fault. If you died, it would be because of Jungkook. The fight left him, and Jungkook crumpled to the ground.

Silent sobs wracked his frame as he kneeled, watching your lifeless body being whisked away on a stretcher into the ambulance. Sirens began wailing as the ambulance lurched to life, but to Jungkook, the sound seemed far away. He could only stare as the ambulance–as his soulmate–sped away into the night, disappearing into obscurity.

Jungkook’s mind was blank. He felt numb everywhere, he couldn’t even feel his own body. It was like he had slipped away and was watching himself from someplace else, wishing that what had happened wasn’t real.

He wondered if this was all just an elaborate nightmare. If, at any moment, he would wake up never having met you. That way, he had a chance to undo all the mistakes he had made. Jungkook wished that were true, but he knew better than to wish.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital,” the man from before spoke, his tired voice lined with guilt. “Don’t worry son, I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Jungkook felt himself being lifted, and he stood up shakily. The man led Jungkook into his car, struggling to get the large boy into the vehicle. They rode in silence to the nearest hospital, and by the time they arrived, Jungkook wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

-

Since he had arrived at the hospital, Jungkook had done nothing but stare at the walls in the hallway in front of him, waiting for you to exit the emergency room. After a few hours, your body was whisked away to an intensive care unit. Jungkook followed the line of doctors and nurses that wheeled you away, met by looks of pity.

The doctors tried to explain the extend of your injuries to Jungkook, but their words fell on deaf ears. All he could do was stare at you. You had been moved to a hospital bed, looking impossible small underneath thin, white sheets. There were cuts and bruises all across one side of your face. Like before, you were unresponsive.

Eventually, the room emptied out, and only you and Jungkook remained. He dragged a chair across the room, its legs squeaking against the cleanly polished tiles. Jungkook sat down beside your bed and did nothing but stare.

White walls and the scent of antiseptic surrounded Jungkook. His dark clothing was a stark contrast against all the white and pale grey around him. He hated everything about hospitals–they brought up so many terrible memories.

But for once, he was able to find comfort. The steady beeping of your heart monitor ignited a spark of hope within Jungkook.

From the night into the morning, nurses drifted in and out of the unit to check on you. They cast worried looks at Jungkook, who had not moved in several hours. One even tried to bring to bring him food, only to return an hour later and see it untouched.

People tried speaking to Jungkook again. He couldn’t bring himself to listen properly, but a few words lingered, like “serious head trauma” and “potential brain damage.” Those words echoed around in the background of Jungkook’s mind ceaselessly.

In the time Jungkook had spent watching you, he also had time to think. He tried to recall every one of your thoughts he had heard. Every conversation you had shared. It was impossible to reestablish them all–he had been listening to you for as long as he could remember.

In his life that had been filled with so many horrors and so much sadness, you were the one bright light in the darkness that surrounded Jungkook. And how, that light was so close to being extinguished. With nothing better to do, Jungkook whispered quiet confessions, hoping that even in your unconscious state, you would hear them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook whispered, his voice rough after everything he had put it through. “I’m sorry for everything–everything I’ve done, everything I’ve said. I never wanted to hurt you, never. You mean the world to me.”

He could feel his eyes begin to water, but in the sanctity of the empty room, Jungkook did not stop talking.

“I never thought we would meet so soon,” Jungkook confessed, tears slipping down his cheeks. He reached out for your hand, holding it carefully in his larger ones. “I wasn’t ready. Right now, I’m not…I’m not a good person. I wanted to change–become someone you could be proud of. But in the end, you already knew exactly who I was. I wasn’t ready to face you, and I pushed you away. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook kept talking, pouring his heart out to your unhearing ears. He spoke until his voice faltered and he had no more words to say. But even then, he knew it wasn’t enough. He would do anything to make you understand. He wasn’t sure if you could live not knowing if you would every forgive him.

Suddenly, in his clammy palms, Jungkook felt your hand twitch. His eyes widened and jumped to your face. Your eyelids were twitching as you roused slowly. Jungkook leapt to his feet and searched for the assistance button.

“Nurse!” he yelled, his voice cracking. He jammed the button frantically, unsure of what to do as you began to wake.

Jungkook watched in awe as your eyes opened slowly. You squinted into the bright light, your eyes darting around the room as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“What happened?” you croaked, your voice hoarse after almost a day of misuse. Your eyes moved to Jungkook who was standing beside you. “Why am I here?”

“You were in a car accident,” Jungkook explained softly, a sense of relief flooding through him. His soulmate was alive–everything was going to be alright. “You have a few injuries, but you’re going to be fine.”

“Oh…okay,” you replied slowly, still not understanding. “But why are you here? Where’s Jieun? Who are you?”

Jungkook’s heart stopped in his chest. Did you forget?

“Would you mind telling me the date?” Jungkook asked, sounding much calmer than he felt.

“It’s August 6th, I think,” you said after a moment. Jungkook stared, wide-eyed. You had completely forgotten the past three months. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“My name’s Jungkook,” he spoke finally, trying to keep his voice steady. “Y-you may have forgotten me, because of your injuries. But I’m your soulmate.”

“Really? My soulmate?” you repeating, squinting in disbelief. “But you go to my university. Why haven’t you said anything before?”

“We didn’t find out until recently,” Jungkook supplied with a small smile. A nurse burst into the room, gasping when she saw that you were conscious. She called for a doctor, but neither of you paid her entrance any mind.

“Wow,” you breathed, a huge smile lighting up your face. “I can’t believe I finally met you. And that I forgot everything. Will my memories come back?”

“Probably,” Jungkook said, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to be true. “We haven’t spent a lot of time together, so you’re not forgetting much.”

“Hey, how do I know you’re not lying?” you suddenly demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Jungkook. It almost made him laugh, and it definitely made him smile. “What’s something only my soulmate would know?”

“When we were younger, we used to think of love songs,” Jungkook remembered suddenly. “You thought of Taylor Swift a lot. I sang ‘Marry Me,’ mostly.”

“Right, we did that,” you confirmed quietly, blushing at the memory. You looked up at Jungkook, your eyes wide and vulnerable. “So, we’re really soulmates. Wow. Do you…do you love me?”

“Yes,” was Jungkook’s immediate response. He realized, in all the times that he had actually spoken to you, that was the first time he had never lied.

Eventually, a doctor entered the room and began asking you questions. Jungkook stared from the sidelines as the examination progressed. The entire time, your eyes kept jumping to Jungkook’s, a bright blush on your face. Every time, Jungkook indulged you with a smile, but he could only wonder when this wonderful illusion would fall apart.

- Girl in Luv

Wow!! Part 3 already guys. Thank you so much for all the support 💛 I know this is like cliffhanger after cliffhanger, but I have PLANS. This story’s becoming a lot more complex than what I had imagined when I first began writing it, but I hope you guy still enjoy it. Tell me if you liked it, and let me know what you think is going to happen! So thanks again for all the love guys!!! Happy reading 🤓

cassian/jyn fic recs by MUTUAL PINING TROPES

I told an anon that I wouldn’t be doing this, yet here we are. This fic rec list is dedicated to fandom’s dedication to mutual pining + tropes that shove Cassian and Jyn together. All are either post-Scarif AUs, or canon missing scenes.

In brief:

fake making-out
like real people do by mollivanders ( @ladytharen​​) 3.4K
It’s a Classic for a Reason by mosylu ( @mosylufanfic​​). 0.4K, oneshot
Faking It by mosylu ( @mosylufanfic​) 2.8k, oneshot

sharing a bed
The Second Mission: Cold and Codependent by angel_deux. 26K words, complete.
semantics (series) by katsumi ( @leralynne​​). 4 oneshots.
the quiet we hold by ithacas ( @dazy-laze​​). 12K, oneshot
Cold, Cold Nights by Felurian. 2.4K, oneshot
we were secrets to keep by mollivanders ( @ladytharen​​)
Finding Myself (And Maybe You) (series) by Copper_Nails (Her_Madjesty) ( @coppernailpolish​​). 5 oneshots.
Remastered by Lafayette1777 ( @lafayette1777​​) 9.7K, oneshot
5 times Cassian and Jyn shared a bed by Moonprincess92 ( @moonprincess92nz​​) 4K, oneshot
Crash into You by jeeno2 ( @jeeno2) 8K, complete
the benefits of conversation by ignitesthestars ( @ignitesthestars​​). 1k, oneshot
falling together by ninemoons42 ( @ninemoons42) 4.7K, oneshot
Before I Wake, Before the Dawn by redfantasyfox ( @redfantasyfox​) 6K, oneshot

fake relationship
compromise by ignitesthestars ( @ignitesthestars​​). 2.6K, WIP

hurt/comfort (i.e. taking care of one another)
cover me, I’ll cover you by mollivanders ( @ladytharen​) 3.4k, oneshot
Hoarse by Selkit ( @coppermarigolds​). 2k, oneshot
Bloody Little Worms by Kobo ( @rxbxlcaptain​). 2.7K, oneshot
Closer by muggleindenial28 ( @jyn-mother-fucking-andor​). 3.3K, oneshot
what is decayed in you shall be made clean by imgoingtocrash ( @imgoingtocrash​) 2.3k, oneshot.
Two Hours by vaultfox ( @vaultfox​) 4.4K, oneshot
flight lessons by ignitesthestars ( @ignitesthestars​) 1K, oneshot
There For You by guineapiggie ( @ruby-red-inky-blue). 1.9K, oneshot

back from the dead
We Can Turn Over and Start Again by kyrdwyn. 13K, WIP
you are your father’s daughter by gingergenower ( @gingergenower​​). 1K, oneshot
Fifteen Days by clashofqueens. 1.1K, oneshot
untitled by @hurricanedancer​​. oneshot.

caught in the act
Caught in the Act by jeeno2 ( @jeeno2). 700 words, oneshot
A Million More Deaths by starforged ( @starforged​​) 3.2K, oneshot
‘cause i’ve been banging on the walls, i’m too dry to cry by youareiron_andyouarestrong ( @youareiron-andyouarestrong​). 500 words, oneshot

sex pollen
Dust by impertinence ( @stopthatimp​). 1.6K, oneshot
Color My Cheeks by Copper_Nails (Her_Madjesty) ( @coppernailpolish) 29K, complete

mutual pining co-dependence (that doesn’t fit anywhere else)
run to me in the rising dawn by katsumi ( @leralynne​) 4.9k, oneshot
Alternatively, by ibohemianam. 10K, WIP
We’ve Been Here Before by angel_deux. 2.5k, complete
my knees are cold (running home) by filzsimmons ( @jynersq). 7.3K, oneshot
Take Shelter by nymja ( @gizkasparadise​) 20K, complete

Notes on the recs below:

Keep reading

share my heart

A/N: i was forced at gunpoint tonight to write a s4 drabble about bellarke realizing how the other feels about them. Rated T. WC: 1455.


It’s quiet.

Somehow, quiet is always around Bellamy. It’s like he wears it on his shoulders, along with all the pain and hurt and guilt. She doesn’t know if he’s even aware he projects it. All she knows is when she’s sitting with him like she is tonight, sorting meat packages into piles for storage for Alpha Station’s five years weathering out the storm, everything just feels calmer.

“Pass me the checklist,” Bellamy rumbles, nudging her hand with his. It’s the first thing either of them have said for the past half hour.

She obliges, and he squints at it.

“We’ve got to sort those.” He points. Clarke glances around. “Into different kinds of meat. We forgot to do that.”

“Then we have to do it again,” she exhales, and rakes a hand through her hair, nails digging into her own scalp. That will take another twenty minutes at least. Heavy frustration washes over her in a wave. There’s too much to do. Too many small details to iron out. “There’s not enough time.”

She hears him taking a deep breath— it’s no secret that they’re both counting down the minutes. But when he speaks, his voice is even. “There’ll be plenty of time soon enough. Five years, to be exact.”

She looks up, finds him watching her, dark eyes unreadable, and nods, her throat still feeling tight.

They resume sorting, but this time, it’s his shoulders that are drawn tight, and Clarke feels terrible right then for reminding him how little time they had, as if he weren’t already thinking about it every moment of the day. She scrambles for something to say to distract him. “What do you think you’ll do?”

Bellamy looks up, quirks up a brow.

She clarifies. “What do you think you’ll do with those five years?”

Keep reading

punsbulletsandpointythings  asked:

Your myth retellings are gorgeous. Would you tell another please? Maybe something with Hermes?

Pandora is made from earth, shaped by the hands of Hephaestus and made in the image of his beloved wife. Aphrodite gifts her with grace and charisma. Athena teaches her to weave and bestows cleverness upon her.

She stands in front of Hermes, and the god frowns and touches her with a single fingertip on her chin, moving her head one way than the other. “They’ll eat you alive,” he says, and she doesn’t understand.

She tilts her head to the side and smiles a vacant smile. All of the cleverness in the world will do her no good without any context. “We are the same,” she says, pressing a hand to Hermes’s chest. She is made from earth and has the skin to mach. He is a celestial god, and his skin is the same rich shade of brown.

He did not ask to be born any more than his mother asked to bare him. His creation, just like hers, is at the whims of Zeus. All for some little lost fire, all because Prometheus wanted his people to be warm, and, well, he is the god of the thieves after all –

So he gifts her with deceit, with selfishness, with cunning. Her smile leaves her face all at once as she’s filled with self-awareness. “He’ll be angry with you,” she says, “I am not what you were supposed to make.”

“Gods have short memories,” he says, and doesn’t bother to hide the contempt in his voice. “Do not worry about me, gifted child. You have larger problems than my fate.”

He has turned her from something pure into – something more like him. Her face darkens even further as her perfectly crafted mind slots all the pieces together, and he can’t help but find her lovely. It’s how she was made, after all. “I can’t stop it, can I? Whatever they’re planning for me to do?”

“No,” Hermes says, “but now you might be able to survive it.”

“Will I want to?” she asks, and he doesn’t answer. She doesn’t expect him too.

~

She hides from everyone, lives in a cave at the edge of the city. The gods had called her the first woman, but that’s not true, she can see.

There are women. They smile and laugh have work roughened hands. She aches to join them, but she has the beauty of a goddess. They will know. If she joins them, they will know she is not of them, and it will set into motion whatever trap Zeus has planned.

She is not human, not in the same way, molded from clay by a god’s hands. But she is of humans, and not eager to bestow upon them the harm she’s destined to bring them. She bathes in streams where only nymphs reside, steals into the city in the cloak of night and pilfers from the baker’s trash.

“When they said they sent my brother a wife,” a low, amused voice says too close behind her one night, “I had not expected a begger.”

She whirls around, hard bread clenched tight in front of her, an incredibly inefficient shield. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees him, dark and tall and eyes like the night sky. He looks like Hermes. Like her. “Who are you?” she demands. They’re in an alley corner, and of her gifts flight is not among them. She’ll have to fight him to get away.

She’s not afraid of him. Maybe another mortal would be, cornered in the middle of the night by a man she doesn’t know. But she’s no normal mortal woman, and besides – he has something comforting about him, like the hearthfire attended by Hestia. Something warm.

“I am Prometheus,” says the man, and no wonder he reminds her of fire. “What do they call you?”

“You are meant to be in the deepest pits of Hades’s realm,” she snaps, and shifts her grip on the stale bread so that she can throw it at him. He’s the whole reason she’s here to begin with, him and his thievery.

He shrugs and walks closer to her, watching her like one would watch a wild animal. Good. Here, in this dark alley where no one would find a cooling body until morning, it is he that should be afraid. “Gods forget,” he says, “and Hades had grown cold in his place beneath the earth.”

She pauses, considers. “You stole fire for Hades?”

“No,” he corrects, “I stole fire for the people. But Hades benefited as well. Enough that he was willing to forget the terms of my punishment.”

“What do you want?” she asks for the second time. “Why are you here?”

He stops, too close to her, “The question is why are you here?”

She steps into his space now, following him as he backs away from her, “I am here because of you, fire-stealer, because gods may forget but they do not forgive, and I am the punishment they have unleashed upon the world.”

“What a punishment you are,” he says, looking at her lips, and she forgets to hate him only long enough to kiss him.

~

Hermes watches her, watches them. He doesn’t know Zeus’s plan, if this is part of it or not, but he watches her, and he worries. He thinks it is, he can see Aphrodite’s magic clinging to Pandora, but he doesn’t know why.

He would go to his mother, but she’s always difficult to find, Gaea preferring to live in streams and rivers rather than face the man she bore a son for. But his mother’s father, on the other hand, is always in the same place.

“Grandfather,” Hermes greets, touching lightly down onto the earth, “How are you?”

“How am I always, boy?” Atlas grunts out, legs and arms straining as he holds up the sky above the earth. “Tired.”

Hermes lips quirk up the corners. Some days, he thinks he’s more Atlas’s grandson than he’s Zeus’s son. “I need some advice, Grandfather.”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

So Hermes tells him everything, from beginning to end, because he can’t figure out what his father’s plan is, but Atlas might. He’s known the man for longer, at least.

Atlas nods, slow, and says, “A bride of gods, a gifted child. I can think of only one reason to create such a child.” Hermes waits. Atlas sighs and says, “There is a jar, within Olympus, that becomes sealed when it leaves the realm of the gods. After that, only a being neither mortal nor celestial may open it.”

“What are they planning to put inside?” Hermes demands, heart spiking. What are they planning to unleash upon the unsuspecting earth?

His grandfather smirks, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is this – what are you going to put inside?”

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