and they presented it to [high pitch voice] me

Yes Sir Part 5

Yes Sir by evansrogerskitten
Part 5: His Fantasy Girl

Professor Winchester has a fantasy that his girl is eager to star in.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Explicit. NSFW, double dose of smut. jealousy and angst, feels, fluff, role-play, dirty talk, dom!John, NSFW gif. WC: 4505 On AO3

A/N: Shout out to my graduation thesis making a cameo. This fic is kinky af. Let me know what you think! I’m writing it because of its amazing followers! xoxo Gifs & images aren’t mine, thanks to the creator peeps.

The little plastic remote clicked in my hand as I advanced the PowerPoint projected on the screen.

“My thesis is on the Undemocratic Tendencies of the Early American Founders.”

Looking across the classroom I could see encouraging faces although I knew everyone was listless, my presentation being the fifth one that week. Nevertheless, it was 30% of my grade. So I continued flipping through the slides, arguing my cases and backing it up with evidence from my interpretation of the effect of the Founder’s beliefs in creating the original Constitutional laws.

I had worked my ass off on this project. I knew I deserved an A. And with mid terms in a couple weeks, I needed to ace it. So I kept my eyes on my goal, focusing on the screen and not on the man in the back of the room.

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Lost Series - Part Four

Part One  Part Two  Part Three

Pairing : Jerome x Fem. Reader

Originally posted by maticn03

After showering and changing into some of Tabitha’s clothing, I stepped outside for a smoke. I have been dying for a cigarette. The sun had just started to set and I let out a sigh.

“Miss. L/N. I hope you found everything you need.” Theo spoke, stepping out of the shadows.

I smiled at him, “yes, thank you. Not just for the petty things, but for breaking us out of Arkham.”

He smiled, “It was no problem.”

“Can I ask you something, Theo?” I asked, exhaling the smoke. He nodded his head.

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Take Me Back, Please?

Request: Can you do one were Grant cheats on the reader and the reader finds out and Grant does everything to make it up to her..?

Author: Cailynn

Word Count: 1,234


“Is something happening between you and Grant?”

I almost choked on my coffee at the openness of the question. Candice looked at me with concern-filled eyes. Thoughts of all the missed dates and late nights waiting for him ran through my mind.

“ I mean, we aren’t in our best place right now. He’s been missing a lot of dinner dates which has lead to fights. Other times, he’s not coming home until the late hours of the night but he never tells me where’s he’s been.” Tears pricked their way around my eyes and I began to shake due to the painful memories. Candice and Danielle wrapped their arms around me, running their hands up and down my back in attempt to console me.

“Oh (Y/N), I’m sure everything is going to be fine. Grant loves you so much. If I knew you were going to get so upset, I wouldn’t have asked, it’s just Grant has been acting a little strange and we were concerned,” Candice stated still trying to comfort me.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just afraid that we’re falling apart and I don’t want to lose him,” I said, my voice still shaking from the present tears. Danielle rubbed her hand up and down my arm. “Well I guess I better get home, since Grant is actually there.” I picked up my purse and walked out of Candice’s apartment.


When I got back home, I noticed an unknown car parked in our driveway. I opened the door and took my shoes off, quietly closing the door behind me. The comfort of mine and Grant’s shared home filling me with instant relaxation.

Suddenly, I heard a high pitched squeal coming from upstairs. I walked upstairs to fulfill my curious mind. Standing outside of the bedroom door, I heard excessive moaning and panting. Tears began to collect around my eyes as I opened the door to confirm my suspicions. There he was, Grant was having sex with another girl in our bed. Neither of them noticing my presence, I walked into the closet and grabbed my suitcase. When I heard the moaning stop, I turned and looked towards the bed and made eye contact with the random girl.

“Grant, baby, who is that on the floor with a suitcase,” the girl said, causing Grant to stop his actions and look over. Grant quickly got off the girl and started putting his clothes on.

“Get out!” He shouted at the girl and pointed towards the door. He made his way over to me and started taking clothes out of my suitcase. Tears flowed freely from my eyes as I put the clothes back into my suitcase. Grant pulled my shoulders, forcing me to make eye contact with him. My puffy, red eyes matched similarly to his as he wrapped me in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), it was an accident.”

“Oh, so putting your penis into someone’s vagina is an accident? No, Grant, It’s not an accident! Why did you do it? Am I not good enough for you?” I shouted at his sobbing form, stuttering over several words. Grant looked at me with sympathetic eyes, and pulled me into his embrace again.

I yanked myself out of his tight embrace, beating his chest with my fists. He made an effort to wrap his arms around me again, tears rolling down his face. He ignored the punches that I was throwing into his rib cage. I sobbed harder as he tried to pull me closer, me pushing him away with all the strength left within me. I was too weak to let go. After giving up resisting, I let him engulf me into his arms. Tears continually fell from both of our eyes, mine soaking his chest.

“Why?” I let out softly after a while of silent crying between the two of us. He let out an exasperated sigh. “Why?” I repeated. I felt one of his warm tears fall onto my shoulder. He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t know why. I stood up, leaving him sitting on the bed.

“(Y/N), please don’t go. I-I love you,” Grant pleaded as tears fell from his eyes. I shook my head, whimpering at his soft and broken words. Without looking back, I shut the door and left.


After a while of driving around, I found myself back at Candice’s apartment. I parked my car and knocked on her door.

“(Y/N)! What happened?”

The once silenced tears began to speak again. I through my arms around Candice in a search for comfort. She lead me inside and sat me on her couch.

“(Y/N), tell me what happened.” Candice spoke in a soft tone. I attempted to calm myself down and I wiped away my tears. “G-Grant… Grant cheated on me. When I got back to our house today, I walked into our bedroom and I caught him there with some random girl.” Sobs rushed over my body once again.

Candice’s arms wrapped themselves around my body. “How could Grant do this,” Candice asked loudly, “(Y/N), he won’t get away with this. Just wait until I'm  at set in a couple of days and I’ll make sure I give Grant a piece of my mind.” Candice’s furious mini-speech made me let out a small laugh. “Well, before I bore you with the details of how your ex will regret what he has done, you must be exhausted. Go to my spare room and get some rest,” Candice said, noticing my yawning.


I was awaken in the middle of the night by shouting coming from the living room. I open the door to where there is a little crack so I can hear better.

“Please Candice, I’m begging. Just let me see (Y/N).” Grant. Why was he here? He has already caused enough distress.

“No Grant. You had one job and that was to be true. I know her and you’ll never find anyone as trusting or as kind. You’ve really messed up.”

I walked out of my room and down the small hallway making myself known. Grant looked over Candice’s shoulder and stared at me. His hair was disheveled, pieces sticking up all around his head. His eyes were not their usual bright green, in fact, they were red and puffy. His cheeks were still wet from his tears. At the sight of me, Grant’s tears started again. Candice turned to me, “(Y/N), go back to sleep. I’ll get rid of him.”

I pushed past Candice and made my way to Grant. “No, I feel like I should let him explain himself.” I looked at Grant. There was a moment of silence between us. “Well, start explaining,” I said crossing my arms.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry about what I did. Even before I started missing our dates, we were fighting non-stop. I thought that I wasn’t making you happy anymore. I was so afraid that you were going to leave me. Look at where we are compared to where we started, I know I don’t deserve you (Y/N). Take me back, please?” Grant’s eyes were cloudy with tears.

“You get one more chance but if you pull a stunt like this again, we’re through.” Grant pulled you into a tight embrace and kissed you passionately.

“That’s all I’m asking for, love.”

my-anime-romance  asked:

Akashi angst ψ(`∇´)ψ PLEASE

(Sorry I’ve been dead for ever)

Yes yes and more yes! You guys, I complain about angsts all the time because I don’t want to put my heart through it (I get way too emotionally attached) BUT I LOVE WRITING THEM (and reading them..I am a sadomasochist after all >.<)!!!!! I dunno man…I just like deep, emotional, melancholy things! >.<

Remember!! I ALWAYS write angsts with a song to tie into the plot! (Look at past angsts to understand if you still don’t!) This themed song is new(ish), very popular, and it’s trending right now..So you’ll probably roll your eyes at it BUUTTTT I love this song right now and I saw a I took it Mwahaha (¬‿¬) So:

Akashi Seijuro- “Hello” by Adele

Also— if you’ve read my past angsts, I’ve mostly channeled the angst-y emotions towards the KnB character instead of the reader (ie. I’ve made the KnB character at fault and the cause of the angst feeling). This angst is different. I’ve centered the angst-y emotions toward the reader. I hope it doesn’t matter too much but if you’d like me to write the angst focusing on the KnB character doing wrong, then request again and I’ll write another one!!

**Also one more note!! This writing has a lot of Math involved..I hate Math and the simplest addition makes me frustrated because I’m lazy (xD)..It doesn’t make too much difference if you don’t get it, it’s just written to make the timeline real. Math to back it up as proof. So don’t focus as much on the math as you should emotions. ^u^ Now onwards!

Akashi: “Hello. It’s me.”

The bright red hair strands shifted as he snapped his head up at the sound of a vaguely-familiar, feminine voice singing out.

“That sentence..she starts out every voicemail with that exact wording..” Akashi Seijuro murmured as if the song and singer set him in a trance reminiscing in the past.

“What?” Another feminine voice pipped up, making Akashi snap back to the present.

“Hm? Oh, nothing..” Akashi couldn’t help but wince in annoyance at the high-pitched voice.

“I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet,” The first feminine voice continued singing as she gracefully played the classy, white, grand piano that set the scene. “To go over everything.”

Akashi was twenty-three currently, only four more days needed to pass before he would turn twenty-four. Only four more days needed to pass before five years turned into six years since they had not talked. Six years since they’ve seen each other. Six years since she’s heard his voice. However, he knows what her voice sounds least the way she talked in her voicemails, trying to get ahold of him before she started crying. Unfortunately, he knew the sounds of her crying way more then he knew the sound of her own voice speaking.

It was the day he had turned eighteen when she ended everything. The day when she broke Akashi Seijuro’s heart while trying to give it back to him. It was the day she felt as if she clawed her own heart out, dropped it in the garbage, and walked away from it. The day she ended her chances to have a potential happy family.

That was the day she walked away from any future she had with him.

“They say that time’s supposed to heal ya, but I ain’t done much healing.”

After ending their relationship once and for all before walking off, she went M.I.A. from him or anyone else she knew. She packed her things and fled from the whole country, ending all possibilities for Akashi to hunt and chase her down.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

She began her new life half way around the world where she originally lived. Her father was American, her mother was Japanese, and she was the best of both worlds. When she was young and in elementary, they lived as a perfect family in California, USA. She was twelve when her dad passed away and thirteen when her mom decided to move back to her homeland, Japan.

She was thirteen when she met Akashi and thirteen when they both started hitting it off. Akashi saw an emotion held in the girl’s eyes that matched his same emotion. Akashi saw that a part of her was dormant, almost dead, inside. She had lost a loved one that was very close to her and he could tell because he went through the same thing. That’s when he realised she was much like him— that’s when he realised she was everything he wanted in his future wife.

“I’m in California dreaming about who we used to be”

She was eighteen when she left Akashi and her childhood life behind in Japan and moved back over to California. She stayed with her dad’s side of the family. She wanted to start anew. She wanted to forget everything that happened in Japan— including Akashi. She thought that if she ran fast and far enough from her problems, then she would forget about all of them and they would just vanish.

“When we were younger and free.”

But alas, no matter how much she tried to forget him and try to move on, her mind was stuck on her one true love. Two years past before she turned twenty. Two years she had tried her hardest to forget Akashi before realising she just couldn’t. She thought that since she’s older and twenty now, she could try and talk about the things she just couldn’t in the past. Maybe she could move back, maybe they could start again. Maybe he would answer his phone and admit he still loved her and wanted her back.

“I’ve forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet.”

The call never came. His voice never spoke. The closest thing she got to hearing his voice was his voicemail recording: “This is Akashi Seijuro. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back”.

Another two years past and she was twenty-two. For two years she kept trying. Call after call, she kept thinking that he might pick up this time. She knew she probably sounded desperate and pathetic, but she didn’t care. She was desperate to try and mend things that she ended. She knew it was her fault and she would gladly admit it if it meant she could talk to him again.

California was where her ‘dream’ began. She reached her dream job and goal when she became a singer, getting gigs from all over the world; however, there was no joyous feeling she had because she had forgotten what happiness was after she walked away from her lover.

Akashi had to admit, whoever was singing knew how to make bittersweet emotions stir up. He wanted to admit so badly that he could never love anyone else after giving his heart away to his childhood lover..but things weren’t that simple.

“I love you so much, Seiju..” His wife sighed lovingly, caressing the top of his hands from across the table.

“That makes me really happy to know that.” Akashi smiled forcefully, tilting his head to the side while putting on a poker face.

The woman sighed, her smile now turning into a frown. She couldn’t understand why Akashi never said the three special words back.

“Seijuro..we’ve been married for three years, almost four…and you’ve never told me that you love me even once…” Tears brimmed her eyes as she began to pretend to weep with a high-pitch sound, hoping she could get Akashi to feel bad.

Akashi said nothing but sighed and looked away, rolling his heterochromatic-coloured eyes. The woman pouted as she realised she would never get her way; meanwhile, Akashi couldn’t help but think about the one girl he really wanted as his wife, not this annoying trophy wife that was currently sitting in front of him.

“There’s such a difference between us and a million miles.”

Akashi couldn’t help but begin to wonder why she stopped calling nine days after her twenty-second birthday. She had tried so hard, for two years straight, to talk to him and then suddenly she just..vanished. No more calls rang, no more voicemails were left. It was as if she gave up completely. And he hasn’t heard her voice in two, almost three, years because of it. His heart broke every minute as he thought about it.

“Hello from the other side.”

____’s heart broke as she belted out the notes while playing the chords on the piano; she couldn’t help but wonder where Akashi and his wife were at at this moment she was in Japan. She’d been traveling for a year all around the world, singing at different places; however, she’s avoided the one country she swore she’d never come back..yet here she was, singing at it.

Maybe if she came and saw him personally, maybe if she came back. Maybe he would take her back, maybe they would mend everything back together. So many “maybe”’s ran through her many “maybe”’s that would never be.

“I must’ve called a thousand times”

A thousand times wasn’t enough and two years were too short. Akashi secretly wished she would keep calling, that she would keep trying to get ahold of him, because that proved she still wanted him and that she still had not moved on just like he.

He was angry at himself; angry that he let his pride get to him. He wished he could just pick up the phone and tell her how he wanted her back..but he didn’t, and because of that, she stopped trying. Now he would probably never see her again.

“To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done”

The trophy wife sighed while grabbing her coat.

“Come on, it’s time we get home.”

Akashi only nodded as he got out of the booth and walked ahead of her, not caring if she was behind him or not. He didn’t know why he hated her so much, but he did. He despised her, wish he never met her. She wasn’t ___. She wasn’t what he wanted..and she would never be. And for that, he hated her.

“But when I call you never seem to be home.”

If only he knew why ___ quit calling, he would hate his wife even more. He would never be able to forgive her for what she did.

___ couldn’t get the memory out of her head; the memory of the day she stopped calling. The reason why she stopped calling was not because she simply gave up.

The memory of when the phone finally picked up. The memory of ___ expecting to hear a male voice, Akashi’s voice, only to be surprised to hear a female, high-pitched voice. The horrid memory of the woman only saying “He’s moved on. He doesn’t love you anymore. He loves his wife. He loves me. Never. Call. Again.” before hanging up for good. The wretched memory of ___ crying for hours before accepting that Akashi was not hers and will never be ever again.

“Hello from the outside.”

The memory of when she stood outside, in the pouring rain, watching Akashi’s wife engulf him into a loving hug through the window. ___ didn’t want to accept the fact that he moved on. She wasn’t going to accept the fact until she saw it with her own eyes. The proof was right in front of the Akashi mansion’s window as she stood from the outside, looking in.

“At least I can say that I’ve tried”

Akashi and his trophy wife walked to the front of the restaurant, already paid for their meal and his wife was ready to get home. She knew Akashi was thinking about ___ and it was probably because of the stupid song. She wanted nothing but to get out of their so Akashi would pay attention to her again.

As his trophy wife was walking out the door, Akashi followed behind with his head down; however, for some reason he felt as if something was pulling him to look at the singer who was singing. There was this unknown force that whispered to him to turn and look at the stage where the singer was singing this song that touched his heart.

“To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart”

Akashi stopped midway, in between the door from going outside and inside the restaurant. His eyes widened to where you could actually see the whites of his eyes. He thought his heart stopped as he stared at the beauty on the stage. He knew that face from anywhere. He couldn’t believe it took him that long to realise it was her voice. It was ___’s voice that was singing. It was ___ who was on the stage, right in front of his eyes, singing about their lost love.

Everything drowned out after this point as Akashi started to change direction in his walk and started hurriedly walking towards the front of the stage, excusing and pushing people who were in the way. The comments from the bystanders and the sound of his wife yelling at him to come back was muted out as he focused on his one true love.

“But it don’t matter..”

As he got to the front, he put together everything. He realised this song was about him. He realised she didn’t stop calling because she gave up. He realised she stopped calling because someone made her give up. And he realised that no matter how much he could try and persuade her, ___ wouldn’t take him back since he has a wife “that he loves”. Realisation hit him hard as ___ and his heterochromatic-orbed eyes met, their gaze smoldering.

This was all his fault.

A shaky breath was inhaled from Akashi’s lungs before his breath got stuck in his throat as he watched the solo, clear tear run down ____’s cheek before dripping onto the white, grande piano. Teary eyed, ___ holds his stare down as she drew in a shaky breath, knowing both of their hearts were completely broken, and there was no chance of them healing back after she sang the last words.

“..It clearly doesn’t tear you apart anymore.”

Matchmaking Beagles (Kyungsoo One Shot)

Originally posted by dodyo

Car rides with the Beagle line are never quiet. If Sehun and Suho hadn’t barricaded the door to their van, you and Kyungsoo would be enjoying the soft lull of Lay’s voice, rather than Baekhyun’s pterodactyl screeching.

“We should’ve walked.” You nudge Kyungsoo, half-annoyed half-entertained, as Chen fights Baekhyun for a few more sips of the Bubble tea.

“I swear– they couldn’t just get two of each.” Kyungsoo mutters.

Eventually, they spill half the cup over the van’s floor. As the van pulls over to a gas station’s parking lot, you sigh– tired– and lean your head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Your eyes are drooping as the commotion continues and Kyungsoo’s hand is steady on your knee, rubbing mindless circles over the fabric of your jeans.

You fall asleep to what looks like the beginning of an endless game of rock, paper, scissors that Chanyeol somehow gets roped into. The loser, you assume, has to clean up the mess. Time fades away as your mind is enveloped in sleep, comfortable with the warmth radiating off of Kyungsoo’s body. You’re toying the line of consciousness, so close to reaching the spot where your mind stops processing its surroundings.

The van jolts however, and you stir– barely. You keep your eyes closed, trying to go back to the tranquility of sleep, but Baekhyun’s laughter, although musical, is teasing. You pretend you’re sleeping still, preferring to remain invisible and unbothered by all parties in attendance, and you can’t help but listen to their conversation.

“Seriously- you’ve confessed plenty of times in dramas, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol’s voice carries from the front seat.

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Zico - “Thanks for trusting me”

Originally posted by zeethebee

It had been all over the news. A picture of Zico peacefully sleeping in a bed of a hotel room with his upper body completely exposed. It was posted on instagram by a girl claiming to have slept with him. Based on the hairstyle and color he had in this picture, it was more than obvious that it was a recent photo. Fans protected him saying it must have been edited, but as a photographer yourself, you knew it wasn’t. There was no sign of photoshop, the quality was high too and she didn’t use any filter which could alter the picture. The photo was real. 

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A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeeey well this got longer than expected. And with more soft core smut / hardcore make out put behind purity marks! New character, and tons of information! Very filled chapter lol, with a fun little ending :P

Natsu Dragneel is just an ordinary 21 year old trying to get by on his craft’s business, keep his landlady off his ass, and grow his friendship with his new weird neighbour Lucy. Without revealing that he’s a witch. Or his cat can fly and talk. So maybe Natsu isn’t that normal. Things take a serious left turn for him when people from his past start showing up, and he and Lucy as well as some new -and old- friends travel across Fiore trying to find some answers. But the question is, will they be happy with what they find?

Wiccan!Natsu AU

Pairings: Nalu, Fairy Tail

Words: 7965

Rating: M

Part: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven,Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen,Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty One, Part Twenty Two, Part Twenty Three

“Are you sure?”

“Yes Natsu, I’m sure. You said the reason my plant hated me was because there was a very angry sprite that lived in it and choose me for some reason,”.

“But Lushiiiiiiii, she’s scary. She smells like fish but she’s not one and it’s confusing!”

Happy’s loud wail made Natsu and Lucy share a look, Natsu agreeing with Happy and Lucy telling him that if he agreed with his cat there would be no more kissing today. Which Natsu could not live with.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine buddy. Somehow…” Natsu tried to placate, but his own unease was noticeable in his voice and Lucy rolled her eyes at the two.

“Ok, so how exactly do I… summon her? I guess?” Lucy asked, looking questioningly between the two. Lucy and Natsu were sitting on the sofa, Lucy sinking into the space made by Natsu’s legs as he sat cross legged in the center. Happy flew around their heads anxiously, unable to sit still, or maybe staying ready for a speedy getaway. Either way Natsu couldn’t blame him. He eyed the plant warily again, the glass bowl sitting harmlessly on the coffee table in front of them.

“Just ask her to come out. She will, if she wants to that is,” Natsu explained in her ear, resting his chin on the shoulder that her braided hair didn’t fall over. He nuzzled the soft wool on her shoulder as she took a deep breath, a soft grin cracking his worry-pinched lips as Lucy mumbled about his dramatics. She settled more into his lap, and Natsu gave her an encouraging squeeze to her hips as way of support.

“Okay… Aquarius, would you please come out?” Lucy asked, voice wavering slightly from her nerves. She had taken the news that her plant housed an other worldly sprite surprisingly well, but Natsu guessed that even Lucy had her limits, amazing as she was. A soft gasp made Natsu pull away from his fawning over the girl snuggled in his lap, her already large brown eyes growing wider as she stared at the flower before them.

A bloom of golden light was rising from the center of the flower, sparkling transparent petals unfurling until a soft burst of light similar to Happy’s wings disappearing rained golden sparkles that dissolved into the air around the glass bowl. But the shower of magic dust was only barely noticed, as Lucy was left gaping at the figure floating before her. The image of a mermaid with a blue tail and aquamarine hair floated in the air, finned tail twitching in annoyance as Lucy continued to stare at her.

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Mr. Scratch Visits

The crash from downstairs causes both you and Aaron to bolt up in bed.
“You heard that right?” You whisper your eyes wide in the darkness of the room.
“I did.” He moves to the side of the bed where his secondary gun safe is. You’re thankful that Jack isn’t home, one less person to worry about. You hear the lock click open and the metal against metal as Aaron pulls the gun out. “Come on. Stay behind me.” You grasp the bottom edge of the back of his shirt and follow him out of your room. The two of you move quietly through your home, knowing exactly where to step to avoid the creaking floorboards.
“Oh Agent Hotchner! You brought me a toy.” A high pitched male voice says then he laughs, the sound causes your blood to run cold.
“Baby go! Run. Call Dave. Tell him it’s Scratch.” You go to do as he says when a long hand reaches out and grabs your arm.
“Ah. Ah. Ah.” He chides, “Sorry pet. I have a little present for you.”
“Don’t breathe!” Aaron cries as a puff of air hits your face. You hold your breath until your lungs are screaming for oxygen and this, Scratch person, grins down at you. You can’t hold it any longer you suck in a tiny bit of air and nothing happens. Scratch is watching your face intently. Waiting for a reaction to whatever he’s sprayed in your face. You take the opportunity to punch him so he lets go of your arm, you kick his hip causing him to stumble away but you’ve used up what little oxygen you have. You breathe in a sharp breath of air and there’s a gunshot from behind you. The world gets foggy, you turn to get Aaron but he’s lying on the floor. Blood oozing from a gunshot wound.
“No!” You scream, “No! Aaron!” A dark mass reaches for you, pulling you away from Aaron and out of the house. You scream loudly and try to fight off whomever has you but they just drag you outside.
“Stop! Aaron! Help! Someone help! Aaron!” You’re screaming. The unknown figure pins you to the ground.
“-shhhh.” You hear it murmur in your ear. There are flashing lights. “Baby.”
“Aaron?” Your heart is pounding, someone puts an oxygen mask over your face. “No! Stop!”
“Baby it’s okay. It’s going to help clear the poison faster. Shhhh.” Aaron’s voice is close to your ear. How did they get him so fast? Is he okay? What poison? The blurry shapes come into focus and you see Aaron sitting next to you on the ground. He has a long scratch on his face that an EMT is tending to, but no gunshot wound.
“Aaron.” You breathe from behind the mask. He glances down at you and smiles softly.
“There she is.”
“What the hell happened?” You ask sitting up with a groan. As you pluck the mask off your face he wraps an arm around you and rests his head against yours.
“It’s an aerosol psychological drug. It makes you see your worst fears. Monsters and demons.”
“You were- you were dying.” You choke out between sobs, “I couldn’t save you.”
“It’s okay. It wasn’t real. We’re both okay.”
“What about the gunshot?”
“That was me. I killed him.” His eyes cloud over for a second and you wrap yourself in his arms.
“Thank you.”
“Protecting me, I don’t ever worry that something will happen. I know you’ll have my back.”
“Always. I’ll always go down fighting for you.”
“I know. I’d do the same for you.” You kiss him softly, “I love you Aaron.”
“I know. I love you too.” He kisses you again and you know, the nightmare is over.

Code Red || Peter Parker x Reader

“So when you said code red,” Peter turned towards you. “You meant that you had ‘accidentally’ somehow messed up your mom’s laptop and not that, I don’t know, say Green Goblin was after your blood?”

“Oh no no,” you chewed your nails. “This is much much worse.”

“How could it be more worse? Do you not know Green Goblin!?”

“It is worse because,” you plopped down next to him on the sofa. “All of my mom’s important files are on this laptop and she will kill me, like actually kill me, if that thing doesn’t start working again.”

“Oh how we all long for that day,” he smirked.

You jabbed him in the ribs. “That is not how friendship works. So come on. HELP ME!”
“Okay okay jeez!”

Peter flipped over the laptop and started to tinker with it. You nervously watched but trusted Peter wholeheartedly because he had gotten you out of situations like these countless times.

You leaned a little closer to him. “Careful. Carefuul.” You leaned more close.

“Carefuuuul. Carefuuuuuuuuuul! WOULD BE A LITTLE CAREFUL!”

“OH MY GOD WOULD YOU LET ME WORK!” Peter said in frustration as he pushed your face away.

You scoffed. “How rude.”

Your head snapped towards the door as you heard the jingling of the keys as it unlocked the door. The Mother was home. Your eyes rounded at Peter as he gave you the ‘oh shit’ look.

“Hey kids!” your mom said as she walked in the living room.

“Hey mooooom!” you sprang up tackling her and hugging her for quite a long moment as to give Peter enough time to quickly finish work with the laptop and turn it back on.

“Ohkay,” your mom looked at you weirdly. “Hey what are you guys doing with my laptop?”

“Oh I was uh-“ you scratched your head.

Peter jumped up, “showing me…”

“Showing him!”

“That uh…”


“Presentation!” Peter backed up in a high pitched voice.

“That I uh made for….biology class.”

“The biology class!” Peter repeated.

“Uh huh,” your mom looked at the two of you suspiciously. “Well have fun? I’m gonna be in my room.”

You smiled as she made her way to her room and collapsed on the couch as she shut the door behind her. “Okay whew that was close.”

“How about we keep the code red only in the case when Green Goblin is actually after your blood?” Peter suggested.

“Deal,” you sighed.

~Charlie who missed writing for Peter-Man @marvelfanfichq
A Beginning

A/N: inspired by the PV (specifically Kanan’s wistful expressions) - I just wanted to portray this not-so-friendly yet also not-so-hostile relationship between the two?? It seems quite different than what I imagined before after all XD I figure I better ramble jot this down before the anime airs (since who knows, by then my ship preference might change though I hope not)

For sure though, some of the background ‘facts’ stated in this bliplet would be disputed once the anime’s out since they’re most my own speculation >w> Characterization is also based on my impression of them so far

A/N2: Italicized words within quotations are spoken in Engrish English.
Words: 1,579
Ship: Kanan x Mari

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Jay Park - Lean On Me

Originally posted by korean-hip-hop

It had been two days since you returned back to your hometown for your brother’s wedding, but you still couldn’t get used to the time difference. You’d be wide awake at night and half asleep during the day. 

Actually, Jay was supposed to be accompanying you on your trip, but he had to cancel last minute because something with his company came up. He had apologized nonstop, consumed with guilt. However, you weren’t even angry with him in the first place. Of course you’d wish nothing more than to have him here, next to you, sharing this beautiful memories with him, but work came first. He had responsibilities as the CEO and you completely understood that. Never did you ever accuse him of neglecting you. You both were in a happy relationship despite your busy schedule.

It was in the middle of the night when your phone suddenly began to chime. You were lying in bed, scrolling through Instagram because you couldn’t sleep when Jay’s name flashed on your display. Your eyes widened in astonishment when you saw his picture and name on your screen. Jay was really not a fan of phone calls. In fact he would avoid them if they weren’t obligatory. Even when he was abroad, he still preferred to text. So when you realized the caller was Jay, you heart skipped a beat and your mind went blank. 

What if something had happened to him? Was he okay? Was he safe?  Did something bad happen? What could possibly cause him to make a phone call that he hated so much?

 Before you completely freaked out, you hurriedly accepted his call and pressed your phone against your ear. 

“Hey baby,” he greeted you in a gentle and low voice. That voice that made you melt every single time. However, this time, it sounded a bit hoarse, as if there was something blocking his throat.

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Dating Remus Lupin would include

• Lots of extremely cute awkwardness

• Lots of blushing (the two of you) 

“Hi, (Y/n)! You look beautiful today” 

*blushes and looks away* “Thanks.” *walks into class*

*mutters angrily* “Why did I say that?”

• Studying dates

• Lots of cuddle sessions

• Having your secret chocolate stash 

“Where did you get that from?” 

“I don’t know Sirius, maybe from the kitchen?” *says in ‘duh’ tone* 

“That’s not true, Remus! You ate all the chocolate the house elves have!” *blush* “that’s not true” *looks to (Y/n) for help* 

“He didn’t do it! I went to the kitchens this morning and there was still chocolate!” 

“Oh! So it was you who ate it all!” 


• Tea, cuddling and books.

• Nose and temple kisses.

• Lots of fluffiness

• Him asking you to read to him 

“Babe… Could you read to me? Pretty please?” 

*sigh* “Why?”

“It’s just that I love your voice.” 

• Sirius saying your voice sounds preppy 

“That’s not true!”

*high pitched voice and moving arms in preppy manner* “That’s not true!”


• Him not wanting to leave you on full moons

• Crying when he leaves bc you’re scared that something will happen

• you sleeping in his bed

• him taking a picture of you and then cuddling with you in his bed

• Remus being the cutest boyfriend ever

• Always finding the best presents for each other

• Knowing the other more than you think and blushing when you realise it

•wearing his flannels and jumpers “Hey (Y/n), have you seen my… Is that my jumper?” *blush* “Yep”

• Being chocolate obsessed together

• Helping in the creation of the map “Hey, I think we did something wrong, my name doesn’t appear on the map it says… Oh.” blush

• internally (and not so internally) loving that they put ‘Mrs. Moony’ on the map.

• Lily, Marlene and Alice calling you 'Mrs. Lupin’ “Oh, shut up Mrs. Lupin! I do not like James!” “Yeah, right, and you didn’t just call me 'Mrs. Lupin’ ” *eyeroll*

• Remus’ sassyness being contagious

• Double dates with James and Lily

13 Things

Rating: All ages
Pairing: Bluepulse 
A/N: Good thing I’m going to the dentist tomorrow because writing this gave me a cavity. >.<
Read it on

It’s after Bart’s sped through his vows, and hundreds of eyes fixate on him, that Jaime freezes. His knuckles have gone white from clutching the piece of paper. He wants to grab Bart’s hand and pull him aside, to escape from the prying eyes. He wants to whisper in private the things that are for Bart’s ears only. 

He darts a glance at the procession, where the Team, the League, and his family members are watching. Milagro meets Jaime’s eyes. She grins to let him know that she’s relishing his pain, as she taps the video camera in her hands. 

Jaime stands there, his throat tensing up, when he turns back to Bart. His gaze is warm and reassuring. Jaime feels his muscles relax. He clears his throat, and begins nervously. 

“When we fist met, you were thirteen years old. And here are thirteen things I love about you.”

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Baby It's Christmas

Anonymous said: Could you do a Christmas imagine that’s deanxreader based off the song baby it’s Christmas? The cover is by Travis-strep graham and Colton Haynes:) thanks!

A/N: Wow, I did not plan for this to be as long as it turned out. Anyhow, I hope you like it!

Word count: 2,280

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a car accident, sexual innuendo.


“So…you’re not gonna make it then?”

“Afraid not, baby,” Dean sighed, his voice holding the weight of a ton of bricks. He ran a hand through his hair, the short, sleek strands being ruffled easily. “I really wish I could, but this storm’s bitchin’ too hard; we’ll try to head out in the morning, but the roads might still be closed.”

Two days. The roads had been closed for two days, and now it was Christmas Eve, and Dean was stuck in a motel room just a couple of hours away from home. Sure, he had his brother with him, but Sam was also itching to just go and spend the holiday like a real family instead of being cooped up.

“Don’t worry, I get it,” you tried to say firmly, but your voice shook at the end.

Dean sighed once again, closing his eyes tightly and wishing that he could be with you for at least just a second; that he could hold you and wipe away the tears, of frustration and sadness, that were undoubtedly forming in your eyes. Frustration because you there wasn’t anything you could do, and sadness because, as Dean knew, you had promised your daughters that their father would be home for Christmas.

“Baby, I—”

“Dean, seriously, it’s fine,” you interrupted with what sounded like a forced smile. “I get what having this life —what settling down and still hunting— meant. Just come home safe. Please.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” There was a small silence, not awkward at the least, but just filled with the breaths that you each took, making it obvious that you were alive and well. “Did you tuck the girls in already?”

“Yeah, Katie helped me make dinner tonight while Emily ran around the house yelling that her sister was going to poison the food,” you laughed, the image of the chaotic kitchen causing Dean to chuckle as well. “They were completely exhausted by eight, although Emily did try to protest to their bed time between yawns. Even though she’s three, that child can be really stubborn sometimes.”

“Like mother like daughter,” Dean teased, almost hearing the roll of your eyes. He chuckled again, making sure not to wake Sam up, who was already lying down and sleeping on the opposite bed of the motel room. There was a small intake of breath from the other side of the phone, the corners of the Dean’s mouth turning up a little bit. “You’re tired, too, baby girl.”

“Nah, I’m completely up and at it,” you said, but another, less hidden yawn left your mouth right after you finished your sentence.

“Go to sleep, (Y/N), I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dean promised, and although he couldn’t see your smile, he knew it was there.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Dean heard the sheets of the bed being ruffled as you settled in, confirming your statement. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied softly, hand dropping down and away from his ear as he hung up.

He closed his phone app, the background screen popping out instantly, only blocked by a few things; it was a picture of you and Dean in the hospital with Emily, taken a few hours after she was born. Katie, who was three at the time, was smiling widely at the camera, laughing at the height Sam was holding her at. Dean was sitting next to you, one arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him while he smiled.

But the one thing that always caught his attention, no matter how many times he looked at the photo, was you. There were bags under your eyes, hairs sticking out everywhere, but to Dean, you looked like the most beautiful person in the world. You didn’t even see that the nurse was taking a picture, so you were looking down at the white bundle of blankets in your arms, love and adoration plastered in your features.

With one last look at the image, Dean set down his phone and took off his shoes, his arms folded underneath his head as he faced the ceiling of the room. He’d almost missed last Christmas, but Garth had begged for his and Sam’s help for the case he’d just finished, making him most likely lose the holiday this year.

He took a few moments readjusting his pillow, finally closing his eyes and turning on his side. He could hear the ticking of the motel clock, mocking him, taunting the fact that he didn’t have much time to get to you and his girls.

My baby I’m coming home
This Christmas


Dean woke up at five the next morning, blurry eyed and fighting against the urge to go back to sleep again. He rubbed his eyes, stumbling out of bed and quickly checking his phone. A small grin spread over his face, feeling his sleep fade away.

“Sammy, wake up, man, roads are opened,” he said loudly, throwing his pillow at Sam as he walked into the bathroom, changing in no time and already putting his things in his duffel bag by the time Sam did the same.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Sam grumbled, still half-asleep and tying his shoes while Dean waited by the door, impatiently tapping his foot.

“Cheer up, Sam, (Y/N) said she was going to make a salad for you,” Dean grinned, patting his brother’s shoulder as they left the motel room, stopping for a brief moment to check out at the front desk.

Classic rock pouring out of the speakers, Dean backed out of the motel’s parking lot and into the road. He was careful to avoid any ice, but drove as fast as he could nonetheless. He knew he would not forgive himself if his daughters, and you, were to have their first Christmas without him.

His knuckles kept turning white as he gripped the steering wheel when someone in front of him wasn’t going fast enough. The hours went by slowly and silently, snowflakes hitting the windowpane every now and then. It was past midday, and four more hours before he got home, when he had to stop completely.

“Son of a bitch!” he cried out, hands pounding against the steering wheel. Red and blue lights reflected against the white snow that covered the sides of the road. Three cars were in the middle of the road, each with various degrees of damage, but impossible to drive around.

A police officer with a black coat approached the Impala. Dean let down the window, feeling his mood deflating by the second. A cold rush of wind clawed at Dean’s cheek, reddening them almost immediately. For a second, he forgot all about his current position, stuck in the middle of a road for what would surely be a long time, his mind traveling instead to you, wishing to be with you more than anything in the world.

“What’s the situation, officer?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration tearing at the back of his mind in bay.

“Well, firs’ car swirled on the road an’ another crashed against it. Third one ran in to mess, the poor souls,” the officer replied, her voice thick with a southern accent. “Sorry, fellas, but with the ice like it is, you’re gonna have to wait at least three more hours.”

“Thank you, officer,” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the officer nodded and walked away. He rolled the window up, small, dim clouds of moisture forming as he exhaled slowly. “Great. Fucking great.”

“We’re going to be there in time, Dean,” Sam assured him, but the words barely stayed on Dean’s mind for a few seconds.

“In time, Sam? We’re seven hours away, at least, man,” Dean groaned, though his sentence was almost drowned by the loud ring tone that came from his pocket. He pulled the device roughly, though his eyes softened as read your name on the screen. “Hey, baby. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, handsome. How’s everything going?” There were a couple of small squeals from your end of the phone, and feeble patter of feet against the ground.

“Daddy!” two high-pitched voices yelled into the phone, cheerful and full of innocence. Dean cringed a bit away from the loud noise, but smiled, nevertheless.

“Daddy, when are you coming home? We got the best presents from Santa!” Katie shouted with excitement. “Mama even baked a pie for you!”

“She did? Well, sweetie, you make sure your sister leaves a piece for me, okay? I’m gonna be home real soon, and I wouldn’t miss your mama’s pie for the world,” Dean grinned, his previous frustration slowly fading away.

“Okay, Daddy! Is Uncle Sammy with you?”

“Yeah, sweetie, he’s here,” Dean said, glancing at Sam, who also looked better now that he was hearing his nieces’ voices.

“Well, Mama also said that you should wish him a merry Christmas without being an old Scrooge,” Katie said happily. Dean could hear your laugh in the background accompanied by a protest as you took the phone back.

“My, my, (Y/N), what have you been teaching my daughters?” Dean asked teasingly, making you laugh again. “Such corrupt language deserves some punishment,” he added, his voice lower.

“Oh, God, please don’t do that here,” Sam groaned, pretending to gag as Dean playfully hit his shoulder.

“Mr. Winchester, if you’re insinuating what I think you are, then at least be here first,” you teased back, “are you close?”

“Wish I could say that, honey, but there was an accident, so we’re going to take a bit longer than planned,” Dean sighed, absentmindedly watching a couple of snowflakes landing on the windshield. “Sorry, babe.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m just happy that you and Sam are coming home, so get here safely,” you said softly, your tone expressing sincerity. “Merry Christmas, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”


The sky was dark, and although it glimmered with many stars and the smile of the moon, it made it impossible for anyone to really see what was just a few inches away from their faces. However, a bright, orange light spilled into the front yard of yours and Dean’s house, the glow seeping through the window of the living room.

Dean parked out side the house, him and Sam watching the movie-like scene that was taking place inside; you had Emily in your arms, hoisting her up every few seconds to make her laugh and clap. Katie, who as Dean often liked to say was like a carbon-copy of you, was showing you a few papers, probably drawings she had made. You smiled and encouraged her to keep showing you the pictures, Dean’s red flannel letting you comfortably shift Emily around as you also paid attention to Katie.

“Merry Christmas, Sam,” Dean said with a small smile, too mesmerized to look away from you, but truthfully saying the words now.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Sam replied, turning to his brother with a smile. He then looked at the warm moment happening inside the house for a few more seconds before getting out of the car, Dean copying in his actions.

Snow covered the grass, sinking and browning with Dean’s and Sam’s footprints. Sam’s hand trembled a bit from the cold as he raised his fist, ready to knock on the front door, when Dean stopped him.

“Wait a sec’, I want to surprise them,” he explained, taking out the set of keys that belonged to the house. He fumbled with the small, metal objects until he found the one he was looking for. He inserted the key in the lock and turned it around, slowly and quietly opening the door.

“—and this is a cat, Mommy, ‘cause it has triangle ears,” Katie was saying, her eyes bright as she spoke about the doodles on the white sheet of paper she was holding. “And it’s also wearing a hat like Santa!”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie!” you grinned, smiling at Emily, who clapped and cheered with her small hands while she repeatedly said, “cat!”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect my little girl to be such a good artist,” Dean announced, three heads turning his way in surprise.

You froze in your seat for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. Dean’s lips curved up, his bright, emerald eyes meeting yours and watching your reaction. Then Katie ran up to him, her little sister following behind as she scrambled out of your arms.

“Daddy!” they both yell, giggling and shouting as Dean picked them up and hugged them, planting kisses on both of their foreheads. You stood up a few seconds after, the surprise wearing off and being quickly replaced by joy. Dean put Emily and Katie down, letting them greet their uncle, who wasted no time in spoiling them with his attention.

“Hi,” you breathed, coming to stand a few inches away from Dean. Even though you’d been married for more than seven years, there were times when you still couldn’t believe your luck of ending up with Dean.

“Hi,” he echoed, grin stretching from ear to ear. He was so close to you, that you could see the tiniest glimmer of red on his nose, the cold weather taking blame for it. But before you could look back up at his eyes, Dean gathered you in his arms, cold lips pressing softly against your warm ones.

“Ew, cooties!” Emily shouted, making you and Dean part away from each other as you both laughed, although Dean still held you tight.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Dean said, lips brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

Christmas Gift (Newt x Reader)

Character: Newt

Fandom: Maze Runner

Title: Christmas Gift

Requested by anon:

hi! Could you write a NewtxReader where (they assume, at least) it’s Christmas time in the Glade and the Gladers all do a Secret Santa kind of thing, though they don’t have much to give, Newt gets Y/N’s name and makes her a super sweet gift (something like a teddy bear, necklace, those sorta things) sorry if that’s confusing, but I love your imagines they are amazing 😘

A/N: This is written in Newt’s POV. Enjoy!

Minho and his bloody ideas.

One day he thought about Christmas and how we should celebrate it. And of course, all those lugs didn’t oppose.

We all remembered Christmas, or at least what it was. A holiday in which you stuffed your face with tons of food and received a lot of presents. What a bloody surprise that they wanted to celebrate it.

Not that I thought it was a bad idea, it was bloody brilliant. That way we could have a day off in the Glade and get our minds off the bugging Maze.

And Alby agreed too, which meant that he also thought it was a good idea.

And Minho’s constant whining like a little baby also helped. That shank.

So as I slowly walked through the Glade on my day off –during the ‘Christmas’ time, we had more days off than usual –I took a look at the Glade.

Y/N and a few others Gladers she had convinced had put a few decorations around the Homestead and even in the Maze walls. I found it hilarious because I couldn’t take the Maze so seriously if it had colorful tinsel all over it.

They had also placed a row of lit candles in front of the walls as a tribute to Christmas lights. They even decorated one of the trees with random klunk they found around.

I found it really endearing that she wanted to give a Christmasy feel to the Glade. That way it would be more cheerful.

She looked excited to decorate as well. And so did Chuckie, who was the first one who volunteered to help her.

“Alright…” Alby yelled, warning us that we would stop our chores for a while. “Secret Santa time!”

I rolled my eyes and made my way towards Alby, taking my time.

Of course Minho wanted to have presents if there was going to be Christmas. But I wasn’t so excited about it. What were we going to give each other? A bloody hug?

And I was forced to make a present for whoever was the lucky shank whose name I pulled out of the stupid hat. I was sure that my present, whoever got my name, would be as good as Griever’s klunk. But whatever.

“Newt!” A high-pitched voice called me, and I knew that voice was too sweet to belong to one of those lugs.

I looked over my shoulder and smiled, expecting to see Y/N. And there she was, waving at me.

“What is it, love?” I sweetly asked her, crossing my arms over my chest.

I had always liked Y/N a lot. Ever since she came up in the Box, I had felt a certain fascination for her.

She hadn’t cried the first day –or at least I hadn’t seen her cry, but I was sure she did when she was alone –and she had managed to win everyone’s heart. Including Gally’s, to everyone’s surprise.

And she was so full of life and kindness even in that bloody place that I couldn’t help but to like her. She was really shy too and didn’t talk that much, but that just made her more adorable. 

Not that she couldn’t handle herself, she never put up with anyone’s klunk. But she was always shy when she had to talk to us despite our familiarity, as if she didn’t want to bother us. She was so tiny and cute.

Everyone liked Y/N.

Maybe I liked her in different way, but that was beyond the bugging point.

Pressing her lips together in an adorable grin, she waved something in front of my face.

“I, uh…” She looked up at me and took a step forward. “I’m giving this to everyone”

Y/N showed me some short of long and puffy necklace made out of tinsels.

I chuckled and nodded.

“Go ahead” I let her put it over my head and she giggled as she watched me with that thing around my neck.

I probably looked quite bloody stupid.

My eyes went to her eyes, which twinkled as she covered her mouth to hide her giggles. I couldn’t contain a big grin as I watched her.

“Newt, Y/N!” Alby called us, motioning for us to get closer with an exaggerated hand gesture. “Get your butts over here already!”

“Thanks, love” I told her as she began walking.

It made me smile that, even if she remained silent, she slowed down to walk along with my slower pace.

When we arrived a moment later, everyone -a few of the Gladers already wearing the festive necklaces Y/N made -was sitting down in a circle, Alby in the centre to supervise it all as the leader.

I sat down next to Tommy, friendly clapping him on the back as I did so. Then Y/N sat quietly next to me.

“Ho ho ho, mothershuckers!” Minho arrived and dropped a festive red and white hat on the grass. I guessed that would be the recipient with all the names for the Secret Santa thing.

Not all of us had wanted to participate. Alby didn’t and so did Gally. I wasn’t that interested either, but Minho annoyed me to death until I couldn’t do anything else but to say yes so he would bloody leave me alone.

“Ladies first” Alby looked at Y/N and threw her an encouraging glare as she reached out to pick up the hat.

“I don’t see any ladies here!” One of them dumb lugs exclaimed. Only a few laughed.

“Slim it” I sternly said in the direction from which the voice had came from. Always with the stupid comments.

Y/N rummaged through the many pieces of paper and finally picked one up.

She opened it and looked at the name scribbled on it. Her only reaction was a tiny little grin that only took the corner of her lips.

“Good that” She shoved the little note inside the pocket of her jeans and put the hat back on its place.

“The second in command picks next” Minho, excited as a three year old, threw me the hat.

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I caught it and shoved my hand inside it.

“Be careful, he probably put something there that will chop your fingers off!” One of the lads yelled, making the whole circle of us laugh.

“I bet he put the hat on while we weren’t looking” Y/N lowly mumbled, coyly looking up at our friend.

“No way, that would ruin his fabulous hair!” Frypan’s words were barely understandable as he had laughed so much while he talked.

I randomly picked one paper up and threw the hat back at Minho. Leaning back so nor Tommy nor Y/N saw the name, I opened the folded paper.

It said Y/N written with thin and round handwritting.


We had three days until Christmas day to finish making our presents. We asked for stuff to make them, but the Creators barely sent anything with our supplies that could help us with our homemade gifts.

And during the last day I was eating my bugging head. What do you give a girl?

They’re more delicate than those shanks, you can’t give them a bloody rock or something rough and stupid like that. It has to be something more beautiful, especially for a girl like Y/N herself.

“You alright, Newt?” A voice asked me.

I looked to my left to Tommy, who stared back at me.

We had been sitting outside the Homestead for a while, chatting, and had ended up being silent. That was a bloody miracle, that Tommy shut his mouth and didn’t ask me any questions.

Although he had technically just asked me one.

“I was thinking about the bloody Secret Santa thing” I replied, annoyed.

“Who did you get?” Tommy asked me, as curious as usual.


Tommy huffed.

“You’re lucky, you got the only girl in the Glade” He looked at me as if he didn’t see my problem.

“What were the chances that I got the only bloody girl in the Glade?” I sighed, crossing my arms annoyedly. “I have no bugging clue what to give to her!”

“Slim it, you can give her a bracelet or something” He simply suggested. “Girls like that”

I tilted my head, considering the idea. He was right, that wasn’t something you could give a guy. But girls did like it.

“Thanks, Tommy” I stood up and went to the Box, where the few things the Creators had sent for us to make the presents were for anyone who needed to get anything.

There wasn’t much, really. Different kinds of paper, a few Christmas ornaments, baking ingredients, embroidery floss and stuff as such.

I picked up the embroidery floss and thought that some friendship bracelets would be cute, and it wasn’t like I had a wide range of options anyway.

Nodding, I smiled to myself and proceeded to go to a hidden corner of the Glade to try and figure out how to turns those bloody things into actual bracelets.

Then I bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry, Newt” A low and sweet voice made me look up. There she was.

“It’s alright, love” Trying to be as subtle as I could, I casually hid the threads so the surprise would remain a surprise.

She looked excited as she looked down to the plastic box she held in her hands that I just noticed. Inside it were a few baking ingredients.

“I got Minho” She shrugged, lifting the box until it was at eye level. “And I’m going to make him cupcakes”

Food was actually a great idea. Not always we had the chance to get those kind of ingredients in the Box and baking wasn’t usually something we did on the Glade. Fry just cooked the meat he got from the Bloodhouse and not much more.

“He’ll love it” Minho was always the one who liked stuffing his face with food.

“Who did you get?” Y/N cheerfully asked me, observing me as if she could guess it by my expression.

“I can’t tell you” I simply replied with a carefree shrug.

“I told you who I got!” She whined, making me chuckle.

“I didn’t ask you to do so, love” I began to walk away, laughing.

“You… you shank!”

Y/N managed to punch me in the arm before I walked away. It was the softest punch ever.

Y/N didn’t usually use our slang either. She was too nice to call us slinthead or shank or shuckface.

I kept laughing as I walked to the Kitchens. Frypan would help me bake the other gift for Y/N while I made those bugging bracelets.


The day we all gathered again to give the presents, I held a plate filled with cookies with chocolate chips covered by a napkin.

Y/N was always saying that one of the few memories she had was her mom baking cookies for her when she was little. And she loved that memory, I could see it in her eyes as she explained that memory to me. But it made her nostalgic and sad too because it was just that. A memory of something she couldn’t reach.

So between Frypan and me, we baked a few cookies for her. I tried to tell Frypan exactly how to make them according to her description.

And I was excited to give them to her even though it wasn’t the best gift. I would have liked to give her a bloody teddy bear or something that she would enjoy longer than food.

But when I gave them to Y/N her face lit up. As she took a bite from one, I warned those shanks not to get near the cookies because they were hers.

She told me that, even though it wasn’t obviously her mom’s recipe, it brought back so many memories. Y/N hadn’t tasted a cookie for years.

With a thankful hug from her, we all resumed what we were doing after the Secret Santa gifts spree.

Turns out Tommy got my name. He gave me a bloody mug, that he had at least decorated with weird drawings that surrounded my name.


A few hours later, I saw Y/N coming out from the Homestead and I stopped her at the threshold.

After all, I never gave the bracelet to her. I struggled a lot to finish those bugging bracelets, but they were done.

I had been wearing mine for a whole day, hiding it under my sleeves. Luckily no one noticed that I usually rolled them up and that I didn’t because I didn’t want them to see.

“Here, Y/N” I grabbed her wrist and put the bracelet around it, tying it with two firm knots. “Forgot to give you this”

Then, with no more words, I showed her my bracelet to let her know that it was a cheesy way to remind her of our connection or friendship or whatever you would call it.

“So that was why you didn’t roll your sleeves up as you usually do” So she had noticed after all.

“You like it?” I knew it was a crappy gift, just a thin blue and green bracelet. But I had made it myself with all my love.

“I love it, Newt” Her arms flew to my neck and she hugged me again. I embraced that moment in my mind. “Thanks for the gifts”

Still flattered by my gift, her warm eyes looked around in all directions.

Then, of a sudden, she blushed and giggled to herself as she kept her glance glued to the floor.

I frowned as I watched her, wondering what was going on inside that little head of hers.

Suddenly, Y/N quickly stared into my eyes and leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek very fast.

“Why did you do that?” I grinned widely, although missing the soft touch of her lips on my skin.

Sheepishly, Y/N pointed a finger upward, attracting my glare towards that spot.

A piece of mistletoe that I hadn’t noticed before hung from the door of the Homestead, just above our heads.

“You’re supposed to kiss if you meet under the mistletoe” Was all she said as she averted her gaze from mine.

“Not that I remember much, love” I told her, smirking to try and made her blush with my cheekiness. It worked. “But I don’t think it’s those kinda kisses you’re supposed to give under the bloody mistletoe”

Y/N smiled a little. I had always liked her smile, it was quite lovely. Shy, adorable and genuine.

But she didn’t smile that wide so often. Most of the time, her smiles consisted in pressing her lips together and curving up the corners.

That one was a full and huge grin that made me smile as well.

Figuring she was too bloody shy to do it herself, I leaned in and left a quick peck on her lips.

When I pulled away, I placed my hand around her wrist, just over the bracelet I had just given her.

“Merry Christmas!!” Y/N replied awkwardly, blushing really hard.

“Merry Christmas, love”

Distance makes the heart grow fonder

Original Imagine: Based slightly off of Imagine Isaac coming back from France becuase he missed you so much he couldn’t live there without you AND ( Imagine Isaac asking you to come with him when he decides to leave Beacon Hills

Author: anon

Reader Gender;Female

Word count : 3,718 words

Warnings:Some bad language. some french in there as well but understanding it isn’t really necessary to the story.

Authors Note: This is not my best work at all. i kept changing my mind and second guessing it and didn’t really want to write this toward the end but i finished anyway and posted anyway so i can move on and because some of you might like it. Based on my love for Daniel Sharman and a panic attack I had during a french presentation once. hope some of you enjoy!

The girl paced back and forth reading the text scribbled on the lined paper in her hand. She mumbled a few of the words written there as she paced the linoleum floor of the empty class room.

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So, I’m nonbinary, and I just can’t help but judge other nonbinary people who present as their assigned gender, make no effort to make themselves look ambiguous or have any indicator of being nonbinary at all, and then get mad when strangers gender them. I mean obviously it’s bad if people who know them repeatedly misgender them, but I just don’t understand how a stranger is supposed to know that an overtly feminine or masculine looking person identifies as nonbinary?

I’d really like to change my opinion on this but I haven’t really seen any reason to yet, and I’d like another nb person’s opinion.

Okay, I’m gonna be honest, this is really hard for me to keep my cool while answering. 

1. It is very hard for most people to successfully make people confused about their gender. My metamour is amab and agender. They usually present in a way most people would take as masculine. But you know what? If they were to dress more feminine, people would still fucking take them as masculine. They are 40 years old, amab, and living in the southern U.S. They have a low raspy voice, they have a thin neck and a very noticeable “adam’s apple”. They could shave, wear makeup, wear feminine clothes and try to talk more “feminine”, but you know what that would get them? Not they pronouns, that’s for damn sure. It would get them assumptions that they are a cis gay man or a trans woman, in a place were being either of those is very dangerous. It would be damn near impossible for them to successfully create a look that you would deem acceptably neutral. I am fat and afab. even when I bind, i don’t always look completely flat. I have a high pitched voice, speaking low is hard for me,it doesn’t fool anyone. I have large hips that I can’t hide. I have a face people read as feminine no matter how the rest of me looks. Even when I try, I do not look androgynous. It’s not easy for everyone, it’s not attainable for everyone.

2. Safety. Not everyone is safe presenting androgynously. Most amab people are gonna be in more danger going out dressed femininely, and if they don’t feel comfortable with that they shouldn’t have to. And in general, being actively noticeably trans/nb/gnc is usually not something most people are going to take well. They’re not going to suddenly assume they pronouns for you because you dressed differently, they will likely get mad because they are confused. 

3. who is defining androgynous here? who decides if we are androgynous enough? it sure as hell aint us, because most people would say I look like a girl and I would not. People often completely ignore/forget about amab nb people here. What for them is androgynous enough for you? Because that masculine clothing is not very radical and appearance changing for them. It’s also more dangerous for them to present more femininely if they don’t pass as 100% female, as I mentioned before. gender roles and expectations are harmful, and that doesn’t exclude expectations for nb people. We deserve the right to be ourselves regardless of what people expect because of our gender as much as anyone else. what exactly is “feminine” or “masculine”? these aren’t factual categories, these are societal categories that mean jack shit, okay. the same goes for neutral or androgynous. especially considering our society hardly even acknowledges this category, it’s not like theres a third list of neutral things that if you stick to those everyone will assume you’re agender or something. It doesn’t work that way. society sucks, and people are going to assume a gender of you 90% of the time. present with the intent of being ambiguous as much as you want and i support you entirely with that, especially if it makes you happy or comfortable. but the fact is that even when you do that, it doesn’t just make people assume you are nonbinary.

4. everyone is different. just like some girls are happy and comfortable choosing to look as “masculine” as possible, and some boys are happy and comfortable choosing to look as “feminine” as possible, nb people may like either of those as well. it doesn’t change how any of them identify and who they are. if you wouldn’t judge a cis guy for wearing a lot of makeup and still expecting to be respected as a dude and called a dude, why would you judge an nb person for being just as frustrated as you when being misgendered while appearing in a way you see as one gender or another. 

5. You know when you try really fucking hard to look ambiguous and some asshole still assumes a gender for you and you want to scream? if misgendering doesn’t feel good that feeling doesn’t go away because you’re not trying to show people your gender. whether I am straight up masculine and people are actually assuming i’m a dude, or I’m wearing a dress and people are assuming I’m a girl, or i’m trying to be confusing and people are going either way, it still fucking sucks. your appearance doesn’t change your feelings. 

6. Most of us don’t want people to somehow magically know our exact gender. We want people not to assume, get it wrong, and hurt us. People should not assume a stranger’s gender. It’s that simple. I want a stranger to call me they the same as I want them to call anyone else they don’t know they, because they don’t fuckin’ know. I try to do this myself as best as I can. If i see someone wearing a dress, I try to still use they. If i see someone with a beard, I try to still use they. Until I am told otherwise. It’s not that when someone misgenders me I go “HOW DARE YOU NOT KNOW I AM MAVERIQUE AND USE THEY OR IT PRONOUNS ONLY,” I go, “Man. I’m not a girl, and it feels shitty being called one. I wish people wouldn’t assume gender, so I didn’t have to deal with this.”

7. This shit adds up. Yeah, I have long hair and I rarely bind and I like wearing dresses and sometimes I wear makeup, and yeah I get upset when I’m misgendered, and yeah sometimes I vent about it because just like anyone else hearing the wrong pronouns all fucking day sucks and adds up and I shouldn’t have to change myself and pretend to enjoy something if I don’t and wear things that put me in pain due to my weight and sensory issues just so that you don’t judge me when I’m upset that people are STILL MISGENDERING ME, because it happens either way.

Hope that was enough reason.


Maybe it's too late

TITLE: Maybe it’s too late


AUTHOR : tomcuddlesfic


GENRE:  romance / fluff /angst

FIC SUMMARY: Troubles hit paradise.


AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: This was supposed to be short but it turned out pretty lengthy. Tell me what you think!

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