and they suddenly win an award

Jonathan Cape

EXCLUSIVE: Benedict Cumberbatch is reteaming with BBC One and Masterpiece for the adaptation of Ian McEwan’s award-winning 1987 novel The Child In Time. Cumberbatch will star in and executive produce the one-off 90-minute drama which is written by Stephen Butchard.

In their first commission, Pinewood Television and Cumberbatch’s SunnyMarch TV will produce The Child In Time for BBC One with Masterpiece co-producing. Studiocanal has worldwide sales.

Cumberbatch, who is coming off of the fourth season of BBC One/Masterpiece sleuthing series Sherlock, will play Stephen Lewis, a successful children’s book author whose daughter suddenly goes missing in the lyrical and heartbreaking exploration of love, loss and the power of things unseen.

The film will explore the dark territory of a marriage devastated by the loss of a child. Her absence sets Stephen and his wife on diverging paths as both struggle with an all-consuming grief. With the passage of time, a balance of sorts returns, until hope surfaces and triumphs unexpectedly.

This is one of McEwan’s major early works. It won the Whitbread Novel Award in 1987. One of Cumberbatch’s first notable feature roles was in the adaptation of McEwan’s Atonement.

Butchard is known for Five Daughters and The Last Kingdom. Julian Farino (Marvellous, Entourage) will direct.

Cumberbatch says, “I read the novel years ago and it stayed with me — profound, beautiful and very moving. Only Ian McEwan could write about loss with such telling honesty. We’re very excited to have Stephen Butchard’s subtle and brilliant adaptation, and in Julian Farino we have an extraordinary director who delivers emotional truth. I’m so proud The Child In Time will be the first drama produced by SunnyMarch TV.”

Pinewood Television’s Creative Director Helen Gregory, adds, “I am delighted to be bringing Stephen’s beautiful adaptation of The Child In Time to the screen in collaboration with such huge talents as Julian Farino and Benedict.”

McEwan is “thrilled to have my novel in the hands of such a high level creative team. I have fond memories of Benedict playing a brilliant and key part in the movie adaptation of Atonement. Now, it’s a great honor to have this actor of such immense resource, experience and subtlety in the lead role of The Child In Time.”

The drama was commissioned by the BBC’s Piers Wenger and Charlotte Moore. Controller, BBC Drama Commissioning, Wegner says, “The Child In Time is a unique and moving story and one which I think will touch the heart of every BBC One viewer. I’m proud to be involved with both Pinewood Television and SunnyMarch TV’s first television commission, and to welcome Benedict back again to BBC One.”

Masterpiece exec producer Rebecca Eaton notes the broadcaster “has been proud to showcase Benedict’s work for many years, and of course Sherlock has been a fantastic gift to our audience. To co-produce the first television drama out of his shop, SunnyMarch TV, with Pinewood Television is very gratifying.”

Studiocanal, which acquired a stake in SunnyMarch last April, has distribution rights. Rola Bauer, CEO/Partner of Studiocanal’s Tandem Productions, who took on oversight of all Studiocanal production and co-production television activities in the U.S. last year, secured the co-production deal with Masterpiece.

Exec producers are Helen Gregory for Pinewood Television; Cumberbatch, Adam Ackland and David Boulter for SunnyMarch TV; Lucy Richer for the BBC; Eaton for Masterpiece and Butchard.

Cumberbatch is currently shooting The Weinstein Co’s The Current War and reprises his role as Dr Stephen Strange in Disney/Marvel’s Thor: Ragnarok which releases in November. He’s repped by Conway van Gelder Grant and UTA.


anonymous asked:

I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?

I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.

When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.

When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.

I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.

Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.

Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.

What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.

They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.

So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.

My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.

They did this test every few months for a few years.

But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.

I was 15 when that started.

I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”

I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”

He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.

The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.

So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.

Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.

In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.

I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.

He laughed.

Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.

My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.

See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.

But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.

A few years later I had the other one done too.

My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.

But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.

And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.

If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.

I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.

So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.

K A I R O S | 05 |


(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement

An arranged marriage AU.

Paring: OT7.
Genre: fluff, angst, a lot of suggestive parts and eventual smut.
Waring: Mild sexual content
Word count: 6.1k
Author’s note: Part 5 is the final chapter, I am discontinuing the series. An ending post with a summarized ending will be posted along with a short explanation as to why I’m discontinuing. Overall, thank you for reading guys!

Parts: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (M) |

“But mom, I’m not going to live with a bunch of strangers-!”

“I had the maids pack your things last night, your bags are outside.”


Cliche is underrated.

Especially when you just got kicked out of your own house by your ever so loving parents to stay with seven boys you’ve only heard notorious things about.

Oh, and you’re supposed to pick one to marry by the end of next month

Keep reading

Battle of the Twin Demons (Twin Devils Moshirechik & Kotanechik's Extermination)
Okami Ost, Rei Kondo
Battle of the Twin Demons (Twin Devils Moshirechik & Kotanechik's Extermination)

“Yes. I speak of the twin demons, Lechku and Nechku. They had been imprisoned at the twin summits of Ezofuji. But they suddenly broke free one day and began their deadly assault upon the land of Kamui.”


request: “a draco malfoy imagine where they’re enemies but Malfoy goes with (reader) to the Yule Ball to avoid Parkinson? They end up having a better time then expected. thanks :))” by @siriuslymagical

a/n: i’m happy that you let me make this a part two to my in preparation for the yule ball imagine! i just really felt that it would add up and all that. hope you like it!


Masterlist + Request here!

     "Where’s your date?“ asked Pansy Parkinson with what seemed like an evil smirk plastered on her face.

     The program has already started for a few minutes now and yet Y/N hasn’t arrived, Draco rapidly looking among the crowd in deep pursuit for the girl he has taken interest upon after the many arguments and nagging he has shared with her. At the sudden thought of their current status — a mix of being friends and enemies — he was abruptly afraid of getting stood up.

      But as he focuses his eyes at the entrance of the Great Hall, a lost Y/N was peering everywhere, wearing a red gown that glimmered white diamonds by the light, her hair kept up in an elegant bun with a few strands of hair falling on each side of her beautiful face. Draco had a hard time distinguishing if it was really her — though when their gazes finally met, he could instantly recognize quite well that it was indeed Y/N.

      "There she is.” said Draco to Pansy, staring at his date in complete amazement as she now walks towards them, her chin held high and her smile wide.

      It was obvious by the way she marched with such confidence that she knew what kind of effect she was giving to those who caught a glimpse of her appearance for the night. The boys from Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons were all giving her the look of utter awe, even the girls were silently gushing about how gorgeous her dress was.

     "I’m sorry I kept you waiting.“ Y/N apologized once they were face to face. "Had a little problem with my — uh, Malfoy?” she waved her hand in front of him for he was staring at her in deep thought with his mouth agape.

     "Hmm?“ he snapped out of it.

     She smirked. "I said, I’m sorry for being late.”

     "It’s alright.“ smiled Draco before turning to Pansy, his smile turning into a smug grin. "Well, now if you’ll excuse me, Pansy. I have to get going. Shall we, Y/N?”

      Y/N saw how Pansy’s expression wrinkled at what Draco said, causing Y/N to chuckle and accept Draco’s outstretched hand. Together, they go to the dance floor where a bunch of pairs were already showing their best moves.

      “What’s your deal with Pansy?” asked Y/N all of the sudden as she places a hand on his shoulder; Draco doing the same thing he had done back when they were still practicing.

       He shrugged. “She’s too persistent. I’ve already established it many times that I do not fancy her back but she’s just so stubborn.”

       "Really? I’m not sure whether to be surprised by the fact that Pansy likes you or that someone bothers to do so generally.“ joked Y/N as they now follow the melody of the music.

      Draco sarcastically laughed, his eyes then analyzing her from head to toe. "But on the other hand, I must say, Y/L/N. You look breathtaking tonight.”

     She smiled, a blush appearing on her cheeks. “Well, you don’t look bad yourself. You certainly know what suits you the best.”

     "Of course, I do. That’s why I asked you.“ smirked Draco.

     "Wow. We just got here and you’re already working on your charm.” said Y/N.

      He chuckled. “Only to you though.”

     Draco twirled her around, pulling her swiftly as he leads them swaying against the rhythm. He admit that she had gotten better compared to the last time they danced; her movements were smooth and gentle, just like a true dancer. Not saying that he was a dancer himself but he did know how at least.

     Y/N was looking up at him in uncertainty once he pulled her even closer, something that she noticed he does a lot. “Why did you ask me?” she couldn’t help but inquire.

      He pursed his lips when the thought processed inside his brain. He then looked at her closely, trying to find a reason on exactly why he bothered in the first place.

      “To be completely honest, I don’t really know.” answered Draco. “I guess, at that time when we were practicing, I desperately needed someone else to take other than Parkinson. Then I saw you, sitting there looking like McGonagall was a gift from heaven — and I figured, hey, you’re not that bad, maybe I should just ask you instead of some stranger.”

      She snorted. “I’m glad you thought I wasn’t so bad.”

      He rolled his eyes. “Well, how about you?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Why did you say yes?” asked Draco.

      Like his answer, Y/N shrugged. “Not really sure, as well. Maybe because even though you annoy me to death, you’re not the worst person out there, Malfoy.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “That must be the nicest thing you have ever said to me on the course of our stay here at Hogwarts.” he teased.

      “Yes, and it’ll be the first and last.” retorted Y/N.

      As the night drew deeper, the two Slytherin students found themselves conversing more about themselves, something that they haven’t done before despite being housemates for so long now — just as what Draco claimed.

      When they grew tired of dancing, they settled on just chatting by their table, eating and drinking, their eyes not leaving each other’s as they listened to the countless stories one had to offer. Y/N was taken back by Draco’s sudden politeness and chivalry towards her; it was like she was meeting an entirely new person, someone she clearly hasn’t met yet. While Draco found himself laughing and grinning a lot genuinely, a rare thing to happen for someone like him who was always pressured to be someone the people surrounding him wanted him to be.

      But like most nights, the night of the Yule Ball had to end. Draco took it as his job to escort her all the way to her room, leading her until he was sure that she was already safe inside.

      “Thank you for tonight.” said Y/N as she stands at the doorway, a natural glow seen on her cheeks while she smiles widely at him.

      He bowed. “Pleasure is all mine. I really enjoyed spending time with you. Perhaps even better than what I expected.”

      “Well, I’m happy to know I exceeded your expectations, Draco.”

      At the sound of his name rolling out of her tongue, he suddenly stepped closer and boldly placed an innocent kiss on her cheek, his lips lingering on her sensitive skin for the meanwhile before pulling away with an award winning smile on his features. When he got a good look at Y/N, she too was grinning like mad, her face matching the color of her lovely dress for that evening.

      Finally, Draco put his hands inside his front pockets. “Good night, Y/N. May this night never be forgotten.”

      “Good night, Draco. May this night never be forgotten indeed.” she agreed, slowly backing up and closing her door.

       For a good minute, they just stood at their positions, unaware that the other was doing the same. Draco was running his fingers through his blond hair in astonishment at what he was beginning to feel; Y/N, on the other side of the door, was touching the spot where he had kissed her — her other hand pressed against her chest where her heart was beating harder than a Snitch’s wings.

The King-part 1

The King Masterlist

Summary: King Arthur-ish AU featuring Negan as a medieval king. It had to be done. It just did. Sorry.

Warnings: Negan…language, smut, violence. Possible dub-con. Posessive Negan. Darker than I usually write. No fluff. There is no historical accuracy intended in this piece. I barely utilized the google.

Tags: @negans-network @negansmutweek @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ladylorelitany @melodicdolls @superwholoki @thatwriterizzy

It was a day of celebration throughout the land. Banners flew in the breeze. Cheers and songs could be heard around the castle and surrounding city. The king had married a lovely new bride from a neighboring kingdom a week ago, and today the rest of the kingdom came together to watch the festivities and sport that only tournament can boast. Knights traveled to compete in hopes of winning fortune and glory and perhaps a place at King Negan’s legendary table of knights known as the Saviors. For it was they, that protected the surrounding lands from invaders and pillagers in return for tribute.

Villagers came from far and wide to witness the spectacle and to catch a glimpse their beautiful new queen. For a beauty Queen Gwendolyn was.  Red flowing locks braided in intricate patterns flowed down her back. Her porcelain skin was the envy of all. Large green eyes adorned with long thick lashes watched as each event play before her eyes. Lips the shade of a dusky rose formed a dazzling smile as cheered for the victors from her private box in the stand. The king had decided to participate in his favorite event, the melee, at the end of the tournament and was awaiting his turn on the side of the field while the jousting commenced.

The last knights lined their horses at opposite ends of the tiltyard. Each bowed to the queen. Their visors were lowered. The horses charged. The lances pointed towards the other. They hit each other with a resounding blow.  One knight fell to the ground. He struggled to stand but fell back in defeat. His squires hurried to help him off the field and to corral the horse.

The victor, Sir Richard of Alexandria, walked his white horse along the edge stands and removed his helm. He shook his wavy locks damp with perspiration. His blue eyes smiled to the crowd as he waved his hand. As he approached the royal box, he pulled a rose from his gauntlet and threw it the new queen. She caught it and the smile immediately disappeared from her face. The color drained her delicate features. Her eyes scanned the edge of the yard and found her husband’s glaring in her direction. He had seen the knight present his favor and her accept it. She quickly handed the rose to a handmaiden and sat down. Head forward, back straight, the very picture of an elegant lady.

Keep reading

The Chocobros as Single Dads (Headcanons)

Noctis grew up a good percentage of his life with only a father to raise him. Though he loves and respected his father’s efforts in raising a lone child and running a country… the young Prince was always terrified of being in the same situation. When he finds himself as a single father, he is heartbroken (no matter the circumstances). He isn’t as sad for himself as he is for his children. 

He wanted nothing more than to have his children to grow up with two parental figures, but fate wasn’t as kind. Of course. 

Noctis doesn’t know which duty is more challenging: 

Ruling a country or parenting his own children children alone. 

Of course, he has the help of workers in the Citadel and help from his three closest friends… but, it’s still a challenge. 

He wants his children to trust him, to love him, to befriend them, to confide in him… but that’s hard to tell those things to your children when you’re the King of Lucis. 

Noctis’s children often feel like they are being ignored by their father because of his busy schedule, but Noctis is more than involved. He tries to be. It’s easier said than done as you can imagine.

*imaging a parent teacher conference with the King of Lucis and regular teacher*

Noctis has no time to focus on getting back into dating. No time. He wants to, but… he needs to focus on his children when he has free time. Though he wants his children to have another parent, he’d rather want to be a two-in-one parent.

Prompto would fare well as a single father. It would be difficult at first. He’d have a hard time with dealing with the scenarios that left him single and alone. It would take him a lot of time to adapt to his situation. A lot. Of. Time. He will need to go to therapy and follow up with psychiatrists for a long while. It’s really rough for Prompto.

Once things become easier to deal with, Prompto would rock the single father life. He would be astounding. He has very strong, natural fatherly instincts. I don’t see him really needing much help outside the occasional babysitter and daycare service while he is at work. 

He definitely reads “Single Dad/Mom Blogs” to get extra tips. No one must know. It’s his deepest, darkest secret. He just wants to succeed. 

Prompto is very involved in his children lives. He will take time off work to stay home with them when they are sick, or chaperone a field trip. He helps them with homework. All that jazz. 

He loves his kids a lot. 

He really focus’s on his children’s diets. Our ray of sunshine doesn’t want his kids having to struggle with weight as he did in his childhood. Of course, he still allows them treats and deserts still. Prompto is the best dad. Canon. Yes. He’s fantastic.

The only issue his children have with him… they think he’s embarrassing. He’s taking pictures of them 24/7. During his children’s extracurricular activities (whether it be soccer or chess etc.), Prompto will wildly cheer for them. Even during practices.

Prompto would definitely try his best to ease himself back into the world of romance and dating. Not only would it help him with his emotional issues, but it would give his children another adult to look up to. He just needs a lot of reassurance before hoping back into the dating world. 

I totally see his teenaged children setting up a dating profile online for him!

Gladiolus pretends he isn’t affected by the loss of his partner. He wants to stay from for his children. Of course, like any person… deep down Gladio is struggling. He’s scared for his kids. 

Gladio’s line of work isn’t the most stable and safe. He knows each and every day he goes to work for the Crown… he might not return home. His life was meant to be sacrificed for the King if it was necessary. How could he leave his children like that? 

He discloses his fears with Iris. 

She decides that they will be a team. 

TEAM BRO AND SIS AMICITIA *anime high five*

If it came to it, Iris would care of Gladio’s children. She often looks after them while he’s a work. She wins the Best Aunt Award. 

Gladio is a very strict and protective papa. Don’t mess with his kids. He will destroy you. 

If he hears that a particular kid or teacher is giving his child trouble, he’ll march over to their school and have a talk with a few people.

*suddenly can see Iris homeschooling Gladio’s kids*

He’s very strict on his kids. 

Strict curfew.

Strict rules on who they can hang out with.

“Do I know their parents?”


“Then you can’t go to their house.”

He can be frustrating from time to time from his children’s perspective, but as they grow older they see that his strictness was for the best. He raised some fantastic children.

Gladiolus would have no problem with rejoining the world of dating. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had several significant others through his “Single Dad” life. He’s a lady killer, what are you gonna do? What else would you expect?

Ignis never expected to have children. He never expected to be married. Hell, he never expected to fall in love. Though his situation isn’t ideal, he still feels as if he’s the luckiest man on Eos. He would give everything and anything for his children. 

Like always, he has a great pokerface. His children most likely wouldn’t even know about the circumstances of their absent parent until they are much older. Ignis was always both mom and dad. It’s as simple as that. 

He cooked all their meals. He cleaned their home from floor to ceiling. He would check his children’s homework. Everything. He did it all. While still working a full-time job at the Citadel. 

He’s just as strict with his children as Gladio. If not, maybe even stricter? If you can imagine…

If his children begin to slack in school, Ignis goes into full mom mode. His children have a set list of chores they are given each week. If they are not completed, they won’t be receiving desert until they catch up. If such behavior continues; instant grounding. 

He has a great reward system, though.

He’s a very creative single dad-mom. 

If his children bring home great grades, good comments from teachers, and keep up with chores, Ignis will allow them to create the breakfast, lunch, and dinner menu for the upcoming weekend.

If something really special happens; he cleans their room for them. *gasp*

It’s very effective, believe it or not. 

Ignis has no desire in returning to dating. He was lucky to have the partner he did. No one else could give him more happiness than his previous significant other.. no matter the circumstances that forced them apart. 

anonymous asked:

I think it would be super cool to read a fanfic about Bughead meeting at like a support group for depression/self harm. Maybe they were friends when they were little and Jughead transferred schools and they haven't talked since and they catch up and then support each other through their issues :)

Ooohhh I love this idea! You’re so awesome anonymouse 🐭

“Are you sure you want to do this Elizabeth, you understand this is your choice correct?” Alice Cooper was gripping the steering wheel so tight Betty was sure she was going to rip into the leather.

“Yes mom. This is.. I have to.. if this works..I’m running out of options.” The beautiful blonde passenger whispered, voice closing with unrestrained anxiety.

Alice barely spared her a glance
“If you feel this is a positive thing then go on, why you can’t just stop that nasty habit of cutting yourself up I’ll never understand but since this is what the family counselor suggested I suppose I have no option. Go on and spread our dirty laundry to the world.” She hissed out bitterly.

Sighing silently, Betty reached over and pressed a kiss to her moms cheek.
“I’ll see you in an hour.” She stepped out of the car, her shoulders releasing pent up tension. She would definitely be driving herself here from now on.

“Had to hitch a ride with the slave driver too huh?”

Turning around at the unfamiliar voice, Betty came face to face with a beautiful African American girl, short brown hair and dark eyes, the gorgeous stranger stuck her hand out

“I’m maya, it’s nice to meet you.”

As soon as Betty reached for her hand Maya snapped it back, her whole body jerking forward causing Betty to stiffen instinctually.

“I’m so sorry! I have Tourette’s, I probably should have told you that first. Really I’m so sorry!” She shoved her hands in her pockets and made to scurry forward, but not before Betty’s hand reached out and gripped her forearm.

“I’m Betty Cooper. it’s nice to meet you too.” She gently smiled and began walking in sync with her new friend.

“You’re new here, first days can be a little intimidating but stick by me in group and I won’t let anyone mess with you.” The taller girl smiled proudly, yelping on a twitch before she draped an arm over Betty’s shoulders and pulled her into the building.

As soon as the two girls walked in Betty felt her panic rise, there were chairs set up in a circle around a desk, almost all were taken except a scattered few, teenagers her age were all talking to each other and all Betty wanted to do was run right back out the front door, maybe her mother was right, maybe this wasn’t a good idea, there were way too many people, too much judgment.

“Hi! Elizabeth right?” A middle aged woman with a short pixie cut and see through blue eyes approached her, gripping her hand and shaking it aggressively “we are so excited to have you at Helping Hearts Rehabilitation Therapy Class, my name is Rosa and I run the therapy sessions here! I think you’ll fit in just fine, Why don’t you take a seat with Maya right up front, were about to start group therapy.” The frantic older woman squeezed Betty in a jug before rushing off somewhere else.

Maya grabbed her hand, rolling her eyes
“Rosa can be a little much but she’s all heart, you’ll get to know her better in individual sessions.” She dropped down on a plastic, blue seat and patted the one beside her as Betty delicately sat down.

Betty took a moment to glance around the room, it was an eclectic mix, people covered in scars, people crying on their own, others texting on their phones angrily while some looked about as nervous as she felt, suddenly she felt an itch on the side of her head, it slowly turned into a burning and she glanced to her right, her eyes going wide at what she saw.

A beautiful boy, something right out of a 1950s greaser catalogue. He had thick, wavy black hair, slightly covered by a crooked beanie, he wore a worn in leather jacket and combat boots, his skin tanned and dirty, he had pouty lips with a natural red Betty would have killed for, the most surprising part about him though? His piercing stormy blue eyes, eyes that were currently burning into her as he stared openly.

“That’s Jughead Jones, he doesn’t talk much all we know is that he has to be here, mandatory from his therapist, rumor has it he tried to run his motorcycle off a cliff… on purpose.” Maya whispered close to her, making Betty shudder.

The boy didn’t look away not even when Betty caught his eyes, he must think she was the absolute definition of lame.

Betty had on a soft long sleeved cardigan covering up the scars littering her arms, the cotton baby blue dress she wore underneath had a peter pan collar and it matched her tiny blue ballet flats, her hair was pulled back into an exceptionally tight ponytail and her light pink lips were painted the familiar shade of “perfectly pink.”

“Okay everyone! I want to introduce you all to our newest member, Elizabeth Cooper.”
Rosa spoke from the front of the room, drawing Betty’s eyes away from the staring contest she and this Jughead Jones seemed to be having. She snapped forward, Maya nudged her with a grin as a particularly vicious twitch shook her body.

Betty smiled softly
“Hello, I actually go by Betty.” She offered gently, her honey sweet voice was soothing and like always everyone was instantly taken by the blonde haired angel.

“Well Betty, we usually start by asking, now I know this may seem a little invasive but it’s good to break it down immediately, do you mind telling us what brought you here today?”

Betty’s eyes widened as her fingers dug into her palms, searching frantically for a way out.

“NO.” She shouted, louder than she had planned
“No, no I can’t.. I can’t talk about it. I don’t.. I don’t talk about that!” She begged, moving to stand as Maya placed a comforting hand to her shoulder. Betty’s eyes were still looking around, their had to be a way out!

Suddenly her sea green eyes landed on Jugheads rainy blue ones, he gazed deeply into her face a meaningful look playing on his features, and just like that her heart stopped racing, she was able to find air and she slowly settled into the seat

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I’m just.. I’m not quite ready to talk about that yet, maybe next week.” She plastered on her award winning smile as she patted Maya’s hand in gratitude, Rosa fell for the picture perfect smile and she nodded reassuringly

“Of course, our past does tend to get most of us riled up. Perhaps next time.” With that the older woman went on with the session, an hour later Betty had learned about the multiple different struggles some of her peers had gone through, while she was sure that by having them share she was supposed to feel better but now she felt even more weighed down by the burden. These people had been through so much, she carried their pain on her back as if it was her own, that’s who Betty Cooper was, unapologetically selfless.

Maya was putting her number in Betty’s phone and swinging her backpack over her shoulder
“I’ll text you tonight, set up plans, catch ya after doll.” She blew a dramatic kiss towards Betty before skipping out the room.

Betty smiled with a shake of her head as she continued packing up her backpack, it had taken her longer than she expected and by the time she was done the entire room was empty even Rosa had left.

“You okay?”

The low timber of an unfamiliar voice had Betty nearly jumping out of her skin, she whipped around to see Jughead standing behind her, a smirk on his face, leaning against a chair with crossed arms, he looked like the sexiest Rebel Without A Cause Betty had ever seen.

“Me? Oh yeah, of course! I’m fine.” The blonde shifted uncomfortably in her shoes as he continued to stare at her “a little stressful sure, I lost my cool in here today, it won’t happen again.” She wasn’t sure who she was assuring, the boy in front of her or herself.

“Why not? You didn’t wanna talk about. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want too.” He shrugged lazily, his eyes drifting to her arms.

Betty smiled a soft tilt of her lips
“Sometimes though, you have to talk about it.. or it never goes away.”

Taking a step towards her Jughead lifted her hands in his her palms flat up as he stared at the moon shaped scars littering her soft skin.

Betty gasped and ripped her hands free, laying them flat on her sides

Jughead smiled again, this time a sad, understanding smile

“It never goes away. No matter what we do.” He whispered, his face dangerously close to hers.

“But we try anyway” betty responded “so we beat on, boats against the current.” She quoted.

Jughead smirked
“I didn’t take you for a F. Scott Fitzgerald fan, although you look the part.. daisy.”

Betty rolled her eyes taking a step away from him and turning her back to him, heading for the door, a mysterious smile on her lips.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Jughead Jones.” The door closed shut, leaving Jughead alone in the dark warehouse. Running a hand over his face he couldn’t shake the smile from his lips

“Shit” he mumbled

He was in deep trouble.



requested: hey, I was wondering if you could do one where reader is camila’s best friend and she meets shawn through her and all fluffy please


“y/n!” your best friend called, walking into your bedroom. “hurry
up we are going to be late!”

she walked into the room, her long black hair swaying behind her.

“i’m almost ready, give me a minute to throw my dress on.” you sighed, putting down the last makeup product you needed.

“hurry up y/n, we’re going to be late and my manager is going to kill me!” she exclaimed, throwing the burgundy velvet dress at you.

“camila, don’t worry it’ll only take me a second.”

you walked into your closet, carefully putting the velvet dress on along with a pair of nude heels to match.

camila cabello, who also happened to be your best friend, invited you to come along with her to the american music awards and you happily accepted.

you had been her biggest supporter since her fifth harmony days, and it didn’t stop just because she went solo. the two of you became best friends when you were 6 and she was 8. you were in the same dance class and had basically been inseparable since.

“okay, i’m ready.” you announced, entering your room again. “can you just zip the last part?” you asked, moving your long hair out of the way so camila could zip your dress up.

you made your way to the limo that just arrived to your house that would take you to the awards.

the ride there was spent talking, jamming to some of your favourite songs, and trying to get the nervous jitters out of your systems. you were going to be walking the red carpet with her, and you were nervous that you were going to
trip or something.

“oh y/n,” she said as you stepped out of the limo. “there’s someone i want to introduce you to later.”

you groaned, knowing she was trying to set you up with someone again. normally camila’s set-ups didn’t turn out well.

“trust me, you’re going to like this one. i promise.”

“it better not be another 27 year
old,” you said, smoothing your dress before stepping onto the red carpet with camila.

“that was one time y/n!”

you stood to the side as she posed
for pictures and watched as she was able to turn in every direction that a cameraman was yelling her name.

you weren’t sure how she did it, if that many people were screaming at you and all those flashes were in your face you were almost positive you would have an anxiety attack.

after about half an hour of watching camila pose for pictures, talk to various interviewers, and her introducing you to her celebrity friends, it was finally time to go in the arena.

camila wasn’t performing tonight, but she was nominated for a few categories which you hoped she won. in a way, you were thankful that she wasn’t performing, if she was performing would would be by yourself surrounded by celebrities and some of your idols.

“oh perfect!” she exclaimed as you were escorted to your assigned tables. “we’re at a table with the guy i want you to meet, but i think he’s performing first so you’ll have to wait.”

you rolled your eyes, taking your seat beside your best friend. you had the feeling that whoever she was going to set you up with would be a disaster.

once again, you sat in silence and watched as camila talked to a few more celebrities. of course she introduced you, but you really had
nothing to contribute to the conversation, and it’s not like they were interested in your life anyways.

the lights dimmed in the venue as the tune to a familiar song you heard on the radio a few times had begun.

the singer stepped towards the mic and started the song. you definitely knew this song from the radio but you didn’t know what it was called, all you knew was that he was better live.

“that,” camila whispered, leaning close to you. “is the guy.”

your eyes widened as you got a better look at his face, you had to admit, he was definitely attractive.

“and,” she continued. “he’s your age.”

you smiled, secretly hoping this one turned out well.

“you already like him.” she smirked, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.

you shook your head as the lights turned back on and the show was on commercial break. camila told you shawn would be returning back to the table soon and it just so happened to be the only seat available was next to you.

you were absentmindedly scrolling through your instagram account waiting for the show to start when camila practically jumped out of her seat.

“shawn!” she greeted, pulling the tall boy in for a hug. “i missed you, it’s been so long!”

you smiled as they had a small conversation. once again, you had no purpose in their conversation so you resumed scrolling through instagram.

“oh shawn, i want you to meet someone.” she pulled him towards you. “this is my best friend y/n. y/n, this is shawn mendes.”

you shyly smiled at him, finally standing up from your seat. even though you were standing he was still a good 6 inches taller than you.

“hi, i’m shawn.” he held his hand out for you to shake.

you blushed, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear.

“y/n.” you shook his hand quickly before sitting down again. you hated that you were so shy, but you couldn’t help it.

shawn took the empty seat next to you as the lights dimmed, the show starting again.

they were announcing one of the categories camila was nominated for, when they said her name she nervously grabbed your hand. you have her a reassuring smile, you knew she was going to win this.

when the announcer called her name, she squealed hugging you and shawn before making her way to the stage. you clapped and cheered for her the same way you would’ve if you were at
home watching her on tv. she quickly made her acceptance speech, thanked everyone and her fans and she was ushered off. a few more awards were announced before commercial again.

you noticed shawn had been staring at you since camila’s name was announced.

“is there something on my face?” you ask, suddenly feeling insecure.

“no, why would you ask?” shawn said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“you were kind of staring at me.” you managed to say, your shyness taking over again.

shawn’s eyes widened as you caught him off guard. “oh, uh, i think you’re cute.” he stuttered a bit. “i mean, the way you cheered for camila was cute. i like your, uh, supportiveness.”

you giggled, “i don’t think that’s a word.”

shawn continued to talk to you, it was like he took a genuine interest in what you had to say. which you were surprised, no celebrity has ever done that.

unfortunately, the award show came to an end and it was time for camila to drag you to the afterparty. you hoped shawn was going too, you didn’t want to leave him just yet.

“y/n!” camila returned to the table while you were still having a conversation with shawn about school. “you ready for the after party?”

you groaned, partly because she interrupted you and partly because you didn’t want to go. “no.”

she rolled her eyes, “it’s going to be fun y/n, don’t be such a grandma.”

she grabbed your arm, pulling you up from for seat. shawn looked just as disappointed as you did.

“shawn are you coming too?” camila asked, letting go of your arm finally.

“i don’t think so, they aren’t really my thing.” he said, “i was actually
hoping to steal y/n away for a bit, maybe skip the party?”

you nodded, thankful that you didn’t have to attend that party. you knew you would’ve done nothing there anyways, especially since you didn’t know anyone there.

“bye, you two kids have fun!” camila called as you walked away. “and be safe, use protection!”

you shook your head at her comment as shawn led you out of the building. luckily he chose a different exit and you weren’t swarmed by fans. there were a few, which you didn’t mind since you weren’t surrounded.

a fan came up to shawn to ask for a picture which he accepted.

“is that your girlfriend?” she asked once they took the picture. “she’s pretty.”

shawn chuckled, “isn’t she? but no she isn’t my girlfriend.”

you smiled at the ground, not wanting them to see your red cheeks.

after about half an hour of walking around, shawn offered to drive you home. you knew camila was probably partying her ass off and she was most likely drunk so he was your only option of getting home.

you gave him the directions to your small apartment, arriving sooner than you thought. it was early morning so there was no LA traffic thankfully.

“wait y/n,” shawn grabbed your hand before you could get
out of the car. “i, i want to ask you something.

"oh, yeah sure, ask away.” you winced at how awkward your answer was.

“would you maybe want to go out with me? i would love to maybe one day see your pretty face cheer for me like you did with camila earlier.”


word count: 2,185 words
story peek: “you take my hand and drag me headfirst, fearless” based off of the song fearless by taylor swift

The rain had always been her favorite kind of weather. The smell always brought a smile to her face and she loved the way raindrops felt on her cheekbones. There was also something, she had noticed, about the way the pavement looked right after a rainstorm. The light from outside made it glow, and if anything she felt like the scent of it only increased. On this particular day, her and Peter had gone out to the nearby café for hot chocolate. The hot beverage warmed her hands in contrast to the cooler weather outside. She insisted on getting a table by the window and Peter didn’t argue because it made her happy.

When she heard the first raindrop hit the glass window, her head snapped towards it to see the downpour of rain begin. A wide smile made its way onto her face and Peter stared at her. He was completely infatuated with her. The twinkle in her eyes when it rained. The way her nose got this slight crinkle in the bridge when she smiled that wide. When it really began to downpour, Peter stood up, insisting that they should get back soon before Aunt May started to worry. Peter hurried and tried to run to his car while she lagged behind. The rain had soaked them both to the bone the minute they stepped outside, but she didn’t care. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, giggles falling past her lips as she clumsily twirled, letting the rain run down her cheeks and the slope of her nose.

Peter turned around and smiled widely at the sight in front of him. He grabbed his camera from the comfort of his car and focused it on his best friend. The sound of the shutter snapped her out of her daze and she turned her attention to Peter.

“Did you just take my picture?” she nearly had to yell to be heard over the rain. Peter only flashed her a cheeky smile and winked. The action sent her heart into overdrive and her already wet palms went clammy. Her cheeks already flushed from the cold outside, grew darker as she smiled back at him. He placed the camera back in his car before walking over to her and grabbing her hand. He nearly had to force her out of the rain and into the car, knowing fully well that she just wanted to dance in the middle of the small parking lot, the raindrops dancing with her.

The heater was on full blast on the car ride back to Peter’s apartment. She could only hope Peter didn’t notice the pink flush still on her cheeks, despite her face returning back to its normal temperature. Peter had held her hand and even though he had done it many times before, it made her heart flutter. She bit her lip, trying her hardest not to get caught up in her emotions in that moment. Her head turned to look at him as he drove. One of his hands released its grip on the wheel and he ran it through his wet hair, stray curls falling onto his forehead. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t help her heartbeat increase, as he unknowingly made her fall deeper in love with him.

As she turned to look back out the window she bit her lip again, cursing herself for how far deep she had fallen in.

The next week at school all (Y/N) saw left and right where homecoming proposals. Her heart yearned for Peter to ask her to the dance, her cheeks flaring just at the thought. She fidgeted with the lock on her locker before pulling it open. A small slip of paper fluttered down and she bent over to pick it up.

Meet me on the roof in 10 minutes. It’s urgent.

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion as she read the note a few more times. She had Algebra next and she wasn’t exactly sure how her parents would react if they ever found out she ditched class to hang out with Peter on the roof of the school. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed out deeply before shutting her locker and hurrying down the hall. Algebra could wait.

She peeked down the halls making sure no one noticed her before she slipped through the door leading to the roof. Her feet urgently ran up the stairs and she came up to the roof, the forewarning scent of rain in the air. She smiled yet was still confused when she saw Peter looking perfectly fine.

“Peter?” she called and he turned to face her, a daisy held in his right hand and a crooked smile on his face. She looked at the flower and back to him, before quirking an eyebrow up. He handed the flower to her and she took it, her eyes holding a small twinkle as she looked down at her favorite flower.

“I thought you said this was urgent, Pete,” she sighed, twirling the stem of the flower in her hands. His smile faltered slightly.

“Well, it is..sort of. I just I had something I wanted to ask you. You know, in private,” he rushed out his words and he noticed her face relax.

“Okay well, what is it?” she questioned. The tardy bell rang suddenly and she swallowed, realizing she was actually ditching Algebra. Peter also swallowed, except he was trying to swallow down his nerves so he could fearlessly ask her to homecoming.

“Well, I wanted to ask if you,” he trailed off, his nerves getting the best of him. Her anxiety was slowly burning through her veins as she stood there looking at him, still twirling the flower in her hands. The distant sound of thunder was heard and rain slowly started to sprinkle down. She laughed in her head, realizing this was just like High School Musical.

“I uh, do you, do you wanna dance?” Peter asked, cursing under his breath for not asking his actually question. Her face lit up and her cheeks flushed pink, but she smiled widely at him.

“But there’s no music,” she pointed out, and Peter inwardly groaned before pulling his phone out and putting one of her favorite Ed Sheeran songs on. Peter stole the daisy from her hands and placed it in her hair, before placing his right hand on her waist and grabbing her right hand in his left. Her own came to rest on his shoulder as he slowly danced her across the school rooftop. The rain fell down slowly, only dusting their clothes with small drops of water. A loud laugh suddenly fell past her lips and Peter smiled at the sound, even though he had been startled out of their comfortable silence.

“Sorry it’s just, this is almost exactly like that scene from High School Musical,” she giggled through the sentence and Peter laughed with her.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he responded, releasing her waist and spinning her in a circle. She continued to laugh the sound more symphonic than the music playing in the background. Both of their hearts were beating in time with the music, the close proximity between them making their heads spin.

“So, I actually wanted to ask you something different,” Peter tentatively said. Her eyes poured into his, the twinkle only him and the rain made possible apparent.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, a small smile on her face.

“Yeah, I um,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “Will you go to homecoming with me?”

She nearly stepped on Peter’s foot as she looked at him in surprise.

“I mean you don’t have to, I just thought maybe you wanted to but-” she cut him off, pressing her lips against his heated cheek.

“I’d love to go to homecoming with you, Peter,” she flashed him an award winning smile and he found himself falling deeper in love with her. They stood there in the middle of the roof, before Peter slowly started to lean in. The end of class bell suddenly rang and she shyly looked down.

“We should probably get to class,” Peter said, grabbing his things and she nodded, grabbing her own. He grabbed her hand and led her down the stairs, before he walked her to her English class. She entered the class and took a seat next to the window. Her chin rested in her palm as she stared at the calming rain now pouring from the sky, suddenly wishing for nothing more than to know what it felt like to kiss her best friend.

On the day of homecoming, she felt like she was going to pass out from the combination of excitement and anxiety corroding her bloodstream. Her dress fell off her shoulders and loosely fit her frame down to a few inches above her knee. The midnight blue clothing was the best dress she had owned and she loved the way it looked on her. Her hair was curled in loose waves, and she kept her makeup simple. When Peter arrived, her mother insisted on taking as many pictures as possible and she was all too happy when they finally left.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight,” Peter said as he walked her to his car. She gave him a wide smile, as he helped her into the passenger seat. As he drove the both of them to the dance, his hand held hers and she couldn’t help herself from smiling like a lunatic.

When they got to the dance (Y/N) laughed at the fact that it had started to rain, and it didn’t look like it was stopping any time in the future. Peter tried to pull her into the dance, his fingers intertwined with hers but she stopped him.

“Wait, Peter,” she said and he turned to look at her. The rain slowly began to deflate the curls in her hair and her mascara proved to not be as waterproof as it claimed as it smudged under her eyes. He raised his eyebrows in response.

“Can we, can we dance out here for a second?” she hesitantly asked. Peter only smiled at her and nodded. She could only roll her eyes and smile when Peter insisted on turning music on for the both of them, even though they could hear the music from inside the school. She wasn’t sure how it could get better than this. She was at homecoming with the boy of her dreams and it was nearly pouring down rain. Peter fearlessly grasped her hand and nearly dragged her headfirst into the middle of the parking lot. Her mind reeled and she was almost surprised that she would dance in the middle of a rainstorm in the best dress she owned.

The silver heels she wore made her the same height as Peter and it felt nice to finally be as tall as him for once. They danced around the parking lot, and only went inside when the rain had suddenly stopped altogether. They looked like a mess to everyone inside the gymnasium. Peter’s hair was dripping water, stray curls resting on his forehead. Her hair was soaking wet, and curling at the ends. Her makeup had smudged but she was still the most beautiful one there in Peter’s eyes.

When the dance was over, Peter drove her home and held her hand like before. She absentmindedly rubbed her thumb over his knuckles and simultaneously wished for the night to never end. Peter pulled up in front of her house and walked her to her door. They smiled at each other for a bit before she spoke up.

“I had fun tonight. Thanks for dancing in the rain with me,” she laughed and Peter grinned.

“Anything for you, darling,” Peter responded, confidence suddenly streaming through his blood. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she smiled at him. Her hands were shaking slightly and she was confused, her hands never shook before. As she stared into Peter’s eyes, she noticed his hands slowly grabbing onto her waist as he pulled her closer to him. Her hands found their way around his neck as her eyes flickered down to his mouth and back to his eyes.

A sudden surge of confidence overcomes her as she grabs the collar of Peter’s white button up and pulls his face to hers. Their lips brushed against each other’s before Peter pressed them fully against each other. Her hands still gripped his shirt collar, and his remained on her waist as he pulled her flush against him. Her first kiss was more than she imagined it would be with Peter. Sweet, flawless, charming, and absolutely fearless.

She entered her house and immediately went to her bedroom. When she shut the door she slid against it and smiled, her fingers ghosting over her lips where Peter’s had just been. She wasn’t sure how it could ever get any better than that moment. Peter definitely had his hold on her heart and was dragging her headfirst through love, both of them completely fearless.

Milkshakes and Epiphanies

“Well this is just ridiculous! Snow thew up her hands. "Emma is not gay.” She announced far too loudly for a private conversation. “Regina is not gay!” Now everybody at Granny’s Diner was none-too- subtly staring at their table. “I think I would know if my daughter and or my stepmother were gay.”

David slunk down in his seat a little, very aware of the spectacle his wife was making.

Both Maleficent and her daughter Lily let out an almost identical chuckle. Then they looked at each other and things became instantly awkward between them.

“Snow, you don’t exactly have the world’s best gaydar.” Ruby gently reminded her friend, “And gay is really not the best term. They could identify as bisexual or-”

“Regina was married to my father! For years!” Her voice went up an octave.

“Yeah, that is um-” Tinkerbell spoke up from her place at the counter beside Dr Whale, “-not the best example.” Her face was turning red. Beside her, Whale with his bleached-blonde hair, snickered.

“But Robin?”

Kathryn pointedly looked away, suddenly extremely interested in the wallpaper.

And Daniel?“

Belle patted her on the shoulder, "She did have a bit of a reputation during her more” she cleared her throat, “daring days.”

Gold’s jaw dropped open and he stared at his wife as if she’d grown a second head. She did herself no favors by turning scarlet red.

“She was well known in certain circles.” Mulan added with an award winning poker face and no further details.

Snow had gone from white to red in the face, her jaw worked but no sounds came out.

“And Emma-” Ruby hesitated, “Well, let’s just say that she’s-”

“Engaged to Killian!” Snow all but screamed.

“And yet she stares at my sister like she’s starving and Regina is a buffet.” Zelena added her opinion to the discussion whether it was wanted or not. “Honestly, I was pretty sure they were an item when I first arrived.” She rolled her eyes, “Their gal-pal act is a little hard to swallow these days. Emma became The Dark One to save Regina. I mean, I like my sister and all; but I wouldn’t make her a sandwich, let alone sacrafice myself to pure evil and chaos.”

“I think they are a much better together than apart. They balance each other out.” Violet smiled, “Emma relaxes Regina and Regina grounds Emma. They need each other.” Henry, across from Violet, had his head down and was beating his forehead against the table.

Snow had stopped speaking, but she did have an odd look on her face. Like she had just had an epiphany.

The Diner fell silent, but for the bell jingling over the door. Emma, with Neal in her arms, and Regina, with Robyn in hers, cane in, completely oblivious to the community forum that had just occurred. They moved without speaking, pulling chairs and high chairs over to the table that say closest to both Snow and David and Henry and Violet. They worked in-sync, settling toddlers, sitting down and saying hellos.

Emma was the first to notice the now very awkward silence. “What?”

No one said a word.

Fallacy [Jungkook]

{{ noun // a mistaken belief, especially one based on unsound argument }}

He’s probably more oblivious than Gilderoy Lockhart.

Fluff. Hogwarts AU. 1,134 words.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Slytherins may be a lot of things: ambitious, cunning, and intelligent. But no one ever told you how painfully stupidly oblivious they are. Or maybe it can be directed to the entire male population who’s usually unaware in general when it comes to feelings.

But a certain Jeon Jungkook in particular falls under this category.

You would think that after five months of shamelessly flirting with him, he’d say something about it. For god’s sake, how many times do you need to compliment him until he gets the hint? Well, he did say “it’s a date” when you asked about practicing quidditch together earlier today. That has to count for something.

Then again, you heard Jungkook say that to Jimin when he asked about going for butterbeers during the next Hogsmeade weekend.

Keep reading

i know i’ve been gone for a minute but i need to get some things out right now. 

when bts got nominated for top social artist, i heard all kinds of shit. “it’s not even a real category.” “they’re not revolutionary for it.” “the award means nothing for k-pop anyway.” those things just motivated me even more to vote, so i did. i told every single army to, and we did our very best. 

yesterday, bts won the award, and suddenly things changed. there were people in my mentions saying that the victory was important for k-pop as a whole. that the award wasn’t only bangtan’s. that they got there thanks to other people who “paved the way” for them. people started acting as if the whole k-pop community had helped and supported us, which is a fucking joke.

so let me tell you: no, this award is not everyone’s award. this award is bangtan’s and army’s, who worked their asses off to win this, on our own, as we always do. because we (and bts) are supported by others when it’s convenient for them, because when it’s not, they are always ready to rub all their 94 daesangs on our face or some shit. please, cut the crap. we never needed these people’s help and i’m not fucking sharing this with them.

you know what makes me even more pissed? the fact that there’s a small part of the fandom who listens to those people. who want to be accepted and loved by other fandoms so bad that they’re always glad to give those people what they want: a fandom who works for them to spread k-pop and never gets credit for it. i’m sick of that. i don’t care about my “fandom’s image” in k-pop because if you haven’t noticed, no matter what we do, bangtan’s success bothers most of people and it makes them turn against us. and we. do not. need. them.

i appreciate each and every single person from other fandoms who voted for bts and don’t fit on cases mentioned here, but army, you’re powerful on your own. be kind (and humble) to people who deserve your kindness. stop fighting against your own fandom to please people who don’t give a fuck about you or your idols. learn to be tough, because as bts grows more popular, we’re gonna need it. if “teamwork makes the dream work”, our team needs to be unstoppable.

and antis, no, you can’t have our bbma. 

The Joker x Reader - “The Promise” Part 2

The Joker never saw it coming; he left his guard down for a moment and it all went to pieces. Nothing to hold on to now except his son and the memory of you. But maybe there is something else that won’t let him go either…

Read Part 1 here:

“You’re my prisoner for the night,” you would hold his hands above his head. “I’m not gonna let you go anywhere,” and you kissed his neck painfully slow.

“I don’t wanna go anywhere,” J would growl, admitting to the truth. “Unless Kase wakes up, crying…but we can always start all over, hm?”

“Ohhh, I don’t mind that,” you whispered in his ear and backed up on top of him just enough to take your lacy nightgown off. “Don’t look at my stretchmarks, ok?” you used to plead, self-conscious about them.

“ Stretchmarks? Nahhhh…” J would trace them on your tummy. “These are battle wounds, Y/N. And you’ve clearly won the battle: we have a very cute baby.”

“He is cute, huh?” you would giggle, tossing the garment somewhere behind you.

“Yeah, thanks to me,” The Joker used to taunt, pinching your thigh. “Obviously.”

“Are you calling me ugly?” you frowned, slapping his chest.

“Nope… you’re a very pretty girl, but don’t tell anybody. I don’t want someone to steal you away.”

“Wow, did you just say that loud?” you let your head fall on his shoulder, laughing.

“No, I didn’t,” The Joker would pucker his lips, antagonized he actually uttered such words. “You’re hearing things, Y/N.”

“Probably; I’m getting old,” and you reached over to kiss him, smiling.

That smile of yours…

“Daddy, daddy…” the shy voice wakes him up. “Daddy, you’re talking in your sleep,” his son touches his arm, placing a small plate on the side of the bed.

J blinks, reality settling in. Sometimes he doesn’t want to wake up. At all. He wants to dream about you, uninterrupted; at least that.

“Hey, kid…,” he moves up on the pillows, yawning.

“I made you breakfast,” Kase shows him the plate with some burned toast and a bit of grape jelly on top.

“That’s nice…” The Joker sighs. “Did you eat?”

“U-hum, Frosty brought a lot of food over.”

He always does. All the henchmen take turns to make sure nothing is missing from the penthouse. They are a bunch of jerks, but they know the kid needs food and J told them to take care of it so they obey. Their boss is out of it, even more than before; God knows for how long, and they all feel they are walking on eggshells. The King of Gotham is lost since you were murdered 4 months ago.

He has no idea on how to be a parent on his own. You were the one that seemed to know more than him about that kind of stuff. He is just… somehow winging it. And it makes him even more enraged since you are not there to help. It’s not that he is neglecting his child; it’s more like he is trying to ignore him. Why? Because Kase reminds The Joker of you. He struggles with his demons so much there is no room for too much more.

“You like it?” the boy inquires with big eyes, nervous to hear the reply.

“It’s so good,” J sadly smiles taking a bite of the extra crunchy bread. “I don’t remember having such a perfect breakfast in a while.”

Kase snickers and bites on his nails, watching his father munch on that “yummy” food he made.

“Mommy says I have to take care of you; you don’t eat enough.”

The Joker can’t swallow that last bite.

“Please stop talking like this, yes?” he messes his son’s hair, frowning.

“Daddy…” the little one hesitantly gets up on the bed, sitting on J’s knees. “Are you going to say it?”

“Say what?”

“Happy Birthday,” Kase sulks, sliding up his father’s knees even more. “It’s my birthday today.”

“Shit,” J closes his eyes, tossing the plate on the night stand.

He completely forgot. Definitely not winning the Father of The Year award.

“Happy Birthday, kid!” he pulls the boy in his arms and kisses his temple. “How old are you now?”

“Six,” the quiet answer is fast to follow.

“That’s right, I knew that. You’re growing so fast… Your mom would have…” and he stops, sensing that ache biting at his chest, sharp blades cutting through his heart. A deep breath, then silence for a few seconds. “Anyway, we’ll do something, alright? And I will get you anything you want.”

Kase gasps, suddenly full of energy.

“Really?! Really daddy?”
“Yes, we’ll both take a shower and get ready, then we can go.”

“Yayy!!! Yayyyyy!!!! “ the kid leaves his father’s lap, jumping up and down on the bed.

J finds himself smirking, immersed in his child’s excited outburst.

“Thank you, daddy! You’re the best!!!” he shouts, gives The Joker a kiss on the cheek and runs screaming towards the master bathroom.

You’re the best… J mumbles, finally getting out of bed. What does that even mean?…

He’s been moping around for so long he finds it hard to get ready and leave the penthouse. As he takes a shower and his son is in the other bathtub taking a bath, he seriously contemplates cancelling the birthday plans. But something won’t let him.

“I’m done, daddy! I’m going to get dressed!” Kase announces and J peeks from behind the heavy shower curtain.

“I’ll be done soon too. We’ll dress the same, OK?”

“Hooraaaayyy!!!!” J hears the door being slammed and stomping up the staircase.

The two of them have a lot of matching outfits. Since today is a special day, might as well wear one.

– You would get so emotional when you saw both wearing identical clothes.

“Look at my handsome boys! If I die right now, I would die happy,” and you got teary, making The Joker roll his eyes.

“So much drama for nothing, Princess.”

Kase would cover his mouth with his hands, giggling when his father winked at him, grinning at your silly reaction.

“What would you know about that?” you sniffled, wiping your eyes, feeling so overwhelmed when J squeezed you in his arms, kissing you so you would shut up.

“I know enough,“ he would purr in your ear. “Want me to prove it tonight, after the kid goes to sleep?” the low tone unexpectedly got you all lightheaded.

“Yes, prove it, “you breathed on his lips and Kase would run over, pulling on your dress.

“Mommy, I want a kiss too!”

J grunts at the painful memory as he buttons up his son’s purple shirt.

“Does something hurt, daddy?” the little boy asks, seeing the painful grimace on The Joker’s face.

“No, nothing…” and he gets up, being done with the task. “ I think we look dashing,” he distracts his boy from the real issue. Or is he distracting himself?

He notices Kase staring at him, then to his left, then back to him again. And suddenly the little one bursts into tears, crying so hard it scares The Joker.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” J bends one knee to kneel in front of his son. “What is it?” he cups his face, actually worried.

Kase keeps on staring to The Joker’s left again, not being able to quit bawling.

“No, I-I don’t wanna tell him that…” he seems to be answering to someone else’s question.

“Hey, knock it out! What’s going on, hm?”

“Mommy…” and his son takes a deep breath, whimpering and trying to talk. “Mommy says you should get a new girlfriend. She doesn’t mind; she understands. I-I…” and the crying intensifies so badly the little face gets super red. “…I don’t want another moommmyyy!!! I want MY mommy!!!” and he charges at his father’s neck, hugging him so tight it makes the Joker cringe. “P-please daaaddyyy, I don’t want another mommy!!!” Kase keeps on begging, unaware of his father’s own heartache.

J can’t move. Where is this coming from?! He wants to get mad like he usually does when his son says things like that, but it’s almost as he can’t find the strength to do it.

“Ssssttt, stop crying. You‘re not getting a new mom, alright?” The Joker surprisingly goes another route in order to calm his child’s hysterical behavior. “ Who the hell had time to even think about that?” he mutters the last sentence mostly to himself. “Hey, look at me,” he continues to caress his son’s back. “You can’t cry on your birthday, that’s the rule. Do we understand each other?”

“Y-yes…” the small body shakes in his arms, finally letting go.

“We need to clean you up now; your face is a mess. It’s ok, you’re not getting another mom, alright?”

“U-hum,” the 6 year old agrees, feeling better since his father reassured him. “You promise daddy?”

“Yeah, brat, I promise,” J is fast to answer because the strange episode needs to stop.

“Mommy says she loves you,” Kase pecks his star tattoo, sniffling, then goes inside the bathroom, turning on the water in the sink so he can wash his face.

The Joker can’t even get up yet; he feels so drained and exhausted. He can’t understand why Kase continues to talk like that. J refuses to acknowledge the obvious: that THERE IS something happening with his kid. The stuff he says sometimes…Things he couldn’t possibly know about.

“I’m done, daddy,” and that makes The King of Gotham to finally get up on his feet.

– J took his son to different toy stores owned by people he does business with. Some of them use the upfront venture for money laundering, some conduct less than legal affairs behind closed doors. No matter. Just one word from The Prince of Crime and the chosen location closes under 10 minutes. Like somebody would dare saying no to him.

Kase runs all over the place, picking toys he likes to take back to the penthouse.

“Daddy, can I have this one too?” he barely pushes the huge box with a tank inside in front of J.
“ Sure, whatever you want, as many as you want,” a bored Joker answers, absent minded. He is sitting on a lather couch, displeased with the color. The pile of toys next to him is getting bigger and bigger.

The cake resting on a glass table nearby has 6 candles waiting to be lit. J ordered Frost to bring it over here, since “Rascal’s ” is the last stop for the day. Kase takes the mini-silver jacket off, tired from all the hard work he’s been doing and crawls in his father’s lap.

“That’s it,” he huffs, bouncing his legs, impatiently eyeballing his favorite chocolate cake.

“Are you sure?” J double checks, leaning over to light up the candles.

“Yes,” he rubs his eyes, getting ready to blow the flames.

“Make a wish,” The Joker urges, wanting to head back home soon.

His son innocent request strikes a chord within J:

“I want my mommy back,” and he blows in the candles, the flickering lights dancing in frenzy before disappearing in thin air.

“Great job, kid!” he gets praised and they are both silent before the cake gets cut. Kase gets a piece and J doesn’t want any. He didn’t have anything today except that toast in the morning, yet he’s not hungry. No appetite since you’ve been gone.

“Here, Daddy,” the little boy offers a bite to his father and J nods a no.

“You eat it, I’m fine.”

“Huh?” he glances over The Joker’s shoulder, carefully listening. “Mommy says you should eat, she doesn’t like it you’re skinnier.”

“Not again…” the complaint is following the remark. “Can you take a break from this? I really don’t want to put up with your…”, J is shouting without realizing it.

“Mommy doesn’t like it when you yell at me…” Kase interrupts, startled.
“YOUR MOM IS DEAD!!! Do you hear me? SHE’S DEAD! Why are you pushing me, hm?” The Joker yanks the plate from his son’s hand, slamming it on the floor. “ Shut up! And don’t cry either! We’re going home! No toys!!!” he yanks the little hand away, furious again, incapable of controlling his temper.

The poor kid can hardly keep up with his father, trying so hard not to cry because he’s afraid J will get angrier.

“Daddy…daddy…” Kase pleads and The Joker snaps at him one more time.

“What?! What is it now?!”

“Mommy says that if you don’t stop, she’ll hate you even if she said she never will,” and tears follow while J slows down then halts. “My hand hurts,” Kase sobs and J releases his strong grip, the words making him aware of what he’s doing.

Fuck, he thinks, trying to cool down.

Why is he taking it on his kid? Probably because there is nobody else around. No you, no one else to tell what’s going on inside his head. That uncanny feeling he lost something he can never get back becomes stronger with each passing day. The restlessness is unbearable, the pain ever growing. He misses you so much it physically hurts most of the time. That’s why he finds it hard to even get out of bed. All he wants is to be left alone.

He’s a goddamned lunatic, completely gone and lost for the world, just like that old Arkham report stated. Why pretend to be something else? And yet…

He gazes at the small child without seeing anything.

“Daddy, are you mad at me?” Kase hugs his legs, getting him out of trance.

The Joker lifts his son up, carrying him in his arms towards the exit.

“No, I’m not. How’s your hand?” he grumbles, kissing the tiny fingers.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore,” the boy admits, already forgetting about it. There is nothing more he wants than his father’s attention. Since your death, J seems so far away, in his own world. Kase needs somebody to take care of him; he’s just 6. It doesn’t matter that the infamous Joker is his dad, the kid loves him regardless. To a child, his parents are the center of the universe. And right now, The Joker is the only one feeling up that space.

Certainly not winning the Father of The Year award.

“Frost will bring all the toys and the cake to the house, OK?” J makes amendments, almost out of there. “Can you…can you tell your mom not to hate me?” he suddenly articulates, mostly on a whim.

“I don’t have to, daddy. She can hear you,” Kase smiles, not crying anymore.

That smile of his
– J got so many more presents for his son. He watched Kase open all of them, and that crazy laugh of his finally echoed in the Penthouse after so long. But when the night comes, all alone with his devils again, tossing and turning, unable to rest until he takes his sleeping pills. But they take about 15 minutes to kick in.

He’s facing your side of the bed, sensing Kase against his body behind him. His son really wanted to sleep in there and J didn’t object. He has to make up for being so out of control right on his kid’s birthday.

The Joker gets under the sheets, just like he used to when you were there, anxious to share plans and secrets with his girl but she’s not there. He whispers anyway.

“I was thinking to plan a heist in 2 months or so. What do you think? Should I go sooner? I really don’t feel like it, because I miss you…” and he brings your pillow to his chest. “I don’t feel like doing anything…”

No answer, of course.

“Daddy,” Kase stretches, half asleep, snuggling more towards his father. “Mommy says she loves you.”

“You’re just dreaming…” J extends his arm behind to hold Kase close to him, not getting pissed for once.

“She’s right there,” his son lifts his head up from the pillows, eyes almost closed, pointing towards your usual spot. “Can’t you see her?” and the little one sighs, falling asleep again.

“No, I can’t see anything, “ he answers, smelling your perfume on the fabric. J always freshens up the scent from the tiny vial you kept on the night stand.

The eyelids are getting heavy, the medicine reacting in his body.

He feels a tender pressure on his lips, just like a soft kiss.

“Hey, handsome,” he hears your voice.

“Hey pretty girl,” he mutters, waking up for a moment.

He opens his eyes, so used to dream about you and losing the connection. The Joker shifts so he can wrap his arms around Kase, almost dozing off again.

“Tell your dad I love him,” he faintly discerns. “ Honey, wake up. Tell your dad I love him.”

Kase yawns, gently shaking his father.

“Daddy…mommy says she loves you.”

“I know, I heard it,” he replies, not realizing what he’s saying. The medication is strong, makes one totally out of it. “Tell her I love her too.”

“She can hear you, dad,” his son repositions himself in his father’s arms, tired since he keeps on being woken up.

“That’s good, I want her to know…” and the last trace of consciousness is lost, enslaved by the effects of the medicine.

“She knows,” his son buries his face in J’s t-shirt, even if his dad can’t hear him anymore.“And she says she’ll always come back because she promised.”


“And the Grammy goes to...” (reader x Sam Wilson)

Characters: reader, Steve, Natasha, Sam.

Summary: Excited for the Grammy’s, you find out you might have to watch them alone when a teammate surprises you in more ways than one. 

Warnings: Fluff. Pregnancy mention I guess? Tiny bit of language. 

Word Count: 1.6k

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: I wrote this in honor of @imaginingbucky‘s birthday !! I hope your day is incredible, Chanel!! Love you, girl!! :) Also, I apologize if the events of the award show are out of order. I didn’t watch the whole show so I just caught up through clips. I have no strong feelings in regards to the award results so if you do, just keep your comments respectful, please! :) 


Originally posted by dailyteamcap

They only came around once a year. This was something you had been looking forward to for months, and now had no one to share it with besides your friends from home who would squeal with you via text. Out of all the available Avengers who weren’t out on missions, you couldn’t convince a single one to watch the Grammy’s with you.

As a last enticement, you had spent the entire afternoon preparing delicious treats to enjoy during your viewing party, including baking cupcakes and decorating little Grammy statues on top to the best of your ability. They looked a little lopsided, but it was fun and at least they would taste good.

As the airing time approached, it looked like it would be a party for one as you settled in front of the large projection screen in the living room, a delectable spread of snacks before you. The sound of footsteps approaching piqued your interest, peering over the couch to see Natasha come into view.

“Accepting my invitation finally, Nat?” you asked, trying to remain casual but a wishful tone snuck into your voice.

The redhead exhaled, “Sorry, Y/N. I’m heading out for the night. I’ll take a cupcake for the road, though.”

Disappointed, you waved a hand toward the snack table, “Help yourself. Have fun.”

“Will do,” she said with a wink, licking frosting from her fingers.

Keep reading

Loose Coffee Beans

John Wick/ Reader

Originally posted by johnbabayagawick

Words: 1,364

Summary: Working at the coffee shop had its perks. You always smelled like coffee, got the leftover pastries to take home, and you get to see the handsome regular named John. Sweet Indeed.

Request: Hey I’ve got some more f l u f f for John Wick. Reader works at this cafe and John Wick goes there everyday and orders the same thing bc the first time he went he thought the reader was cute and eventually he asks her out and f l u f f

Tagging: @kwaiky, @ly–canthrope, @myfriendmagislit

Requested by: anonymous

Author’s note: looking through gifs of keanu reeves…makes me worm.

You’ve grown accustomed to the bell tied to the top of the front door. Every ring brings out that cheery smile and a greeting that you hope doesn’t come off as fake. You try your best to maintain an upbeat spirit but the small coffee shop you call your second home can be a bit overwhelming with many seeking authenticity.

But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi Kaye! Can I request a reaction from suga and v if you were both idols and you win an award and when you go to accept it the camera zooms in on them! I think it would be so cute (I hope that made sense). Thank you so much!!

Suga was watching you intently, his heart swelling with pride at the recognition you received when he suddenly appears on the big screen. He’ll be surprised then find it funny by looking away. But in truth, he just wants to hide how embarrassed he was for being caught practically shooting heart eyes at you while delivering your speech; his smile threatening to split his face in half. <3

Originally posted by xingyoon

You can bet, Taehyung would dare look at the camera and cheer for you cutely; throwing hearts or kisses into the lens. He’s proud of you and he wouldn’t be afraid to show it. 

In fact, he’d even give you a standing ovation, maybe even pulling Jimin or Jungkook with him (or whoever was sitting beside him) to stand and cheer for you too. 


Originally posted by kimjongah

That was so cute. But the gif’s spoke for itself tbh. :P

- Kaye Allen

Truth - Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: The reader and Lin are as close as two friends can be. One night, a bit of jealousy leads to spilled feelings. 

Warnings: Multiple swear words, yikes! 

Word Count: 2,240 (so sorry)

A/N: This is both my first Lin fic, and first fic to be posted on Tumblr. Let’s give it a whirl! I take requests, just send in an ask! Also, a huge thank you to @ourforgottenboleros for proof reading this, and I absolutely have to credit this sudden writing inspiration to @manuelmiranduh and @alexanderhamllton who are both wonderful geniuses in their own. Thank you for making me want to do this.

askbox | masterlist 

It’s during Yorktown that you notice. Lin is looking at you with the stupidest, dorkiest (and cutest but nothing would ever get you to admit it) grin on his face before he almost misses his cue and continues to sing. You re-focus and make your priority continuing the show, but for the rest of the evening, between sweating on and off-stage and listening to the roar of the crowd, the complete adoration on his face is planted in your mind like a bad idea; stubbornly stuck with no hope of being forgotten. After bowing your way through the lasting applause, you slip into the wings, smiling and giving and receiving compliments on a job well done before collapsing into a chair and beginning to undress. Your whole body is sticky with sweat, your mic has slipped considerably but the amount of endorphins in your body make you feel invincible. It’s when you have your shirt almost completely struggled over your head when Lin bursts in with a cloud of excited words. 

“God, tonight was awesome! You did really-“ 

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