apology gift


to never again say my name like an apology // a three part gift for the lovely @androbeaurepaire‘s birthday. [Part 1]

— Dean, loving and being loved by his found family.

anonymous asked:

Please more of Steve getting turned on by women holding his shield.

It wasn’t often that Maria Hill joined them on missions.  She was typically back-of-house, behind-the-scenes, sees-all-knows-all.  

Steve knew, objectively, she earned her position within S.H.I.E.L.D. She was competent and clever and calculating and had courage in spades.  

Steve had never really seen, first-hand, Maria Hill in combat.  She was brutally efficient, like Natasha. She didn’t have the same grace as Natasha, but where Natasha had a dancers grace, Maria Hill had a martial artists.  

She also had his shield.  He’d thrown it into an oncoming Space Pig (how many weaponzied versions of Earth animals were out there, anyway?) and Maria had grabbed it as it rebounded, using it to both defend herself from one creature and attack another (she decapitated it with ease and a sleek, efficient movement that was all brutal force).  She tossed it back his way with a word of warning, without which Steve was fairly sure he’d have been hit in the face by his own shield.  

”So that’s how it is?” Came Sam’s voice over his earpiece.  

“Don’t you have ‘space bacon to fry’?”  Steve asked.  

“Don’t be jealous I have all the good lines.  But seriously.  We need to work on your poker face.” 

Steve groaned.  “It’s not like anything. I need to work on nothing.”

“Steve.”  That was Maria Hil.  “Thanks for the shield.  And the once-over.  It’s nice to know the suit’s still flattering.” 

“See?!” Sam gloated.

“Fine.  Poker faces. We’ll work on it.”

“We won the war,” they say.

Harry isn’t inclined to agree. How can they say that when former Death Eaters are still being persecuted, when their children are being outcasted for something out of their control?

He sees Draco Malfoy’s child, Scorpius, sitting in the front of the class, keeping to himself, and feels his heart break. He hears the jibes that the other students, his own students, throws at the poor boy, and it makes him angry. A punishment is enough for the offenders, he thinks, because they’re still young. They have time to learn. The parents, he knows, are the ones who won’t change. He sees it in their eyes, the way a haunted expression washes over and clouds their judgment. It’s frustrating to see that all his efforts didn’t change anything at all.

“I didn’t fight a war for this,” he wants to scream, “I didn’t risk my life just for another group to be discriminated against.”

“Why didn’t you marry Ginny?” they ask.

Harry’s tired of people asking. Molly’s a lovely person, the mother figure that he never had, but she doesn’t understand. Marriage wasn’t the answer, not at the time. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming in terror. He would flinch at the sight of a wand pointed at him, whether it is with good intentions or not, and would have to fight the urge to draw his own wand. His eyes would dart around a place, searching for exits, even if he knew it to be safe. For a time, his hand never strayed far from his holster, fingertips always in contact touch with the wand in case of an attack.

 Harry knew that he wasn’t stable, that he needed time, time alone, to heal his scars (if they ever did heal). Ginny wasn’t happy about that, not understanding his exact struggle, and thus they had to separate.

“I was broken,” he whispers softly, “I am broken. Can’t you see?”

“How can you forgive him?” they wonder.

Harry just does. Draco had apologized and offered to repay a Life-Debt, but Harry refuses. The past is in the past and there’s no use in dwelling on it. Draco had been young and he made all the wrong choices. Harry wasn’t going to fault him for doing what he thought was right. He’s just happy that Draco had changed, seeing the error in his ways.

It did, however, come as a surprise when Draco came to him after his classes had ended with flowers in hand. They had been talking more and more with Draco constantly checking up on Scorpius. It’s cute, Harry thinks, but he keeps that to himself.

“To apologize again?” Harry asks bemusedly. Draco hasn’t sent an apology gift in a while, but he couldn’t for the life of him think why Draco would get him flowers.

Draco shakes his head. “No.” His cheeks are dusted a light pink. “To ask you out on a date.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” he replies. “And to answer your question, how can I not?”

“You deserve better,” they patronize.

Harry’s response is quick and sweet.

“And, I got it.” He smirks and walks away to where Draco and Scorpius are waiting.

@skatinggays submitted: *gurgles quietly and leaves this here*  YO SORRY BOUT DAT MEME LAST WEEK here’s a crop top yuuri who is absolutely dancing to nandemonaiya from the Kimi No Na Wa OST this is why i write and not draw i am s o r r y



Soulmate au oneshot full of Marichat


They always thought they’d be alone forever. There had been stories of people whose soulmate mark didn’t appear by their thirteenth birthday, but for their first thirteen years Marinette and Adrien thought it was only a story. When their birthdays came and passed, they knew.

Sometimes Adrien felt like that’s why his mother left, because he was defective. He thought maybe that’s why his father became cold. He felt truly lucky to at least have Nathalie, who was the closest thing to a parental figure in his life. Maybe the lack of a mark was why his father forbid him from attending school, to protect him from the ridicule and hate. It took years to convince his father to let him attend school. Whenever magazines asked about his mark, he lied and said it was a secret. Nobody speculated that he didn’t have one for two reasons; one, a lot of famous people refused to reveal their marks, and two, it was practically unheard of to not have one. The last case of an unmarked person was decades ago in the United States; there was no documentation of an unmarked in Paris in all of history.

Marinette’s family was much more understanding. They gave her options and kept their promise of unconditional love. Instead of being forced to hide, Marinette chose to be open. She did not advertise her lack of a mark, but whenever someone asked she told the truth. Some were disgusted, others confused. The bakery even lost some customers but her parents never blamed her for that. She wasn’t happy with the hand life dealt her but she was determined to make the most of it. Years of consoling words from her parents prepared her for a lonely life.

Then a misunderstood blond gave her an umbrella and everything changed. For the first time ever she felt a romantic attraction, a craving for love.

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Sorry u havent been posting so much, so for an apology gift, i give you this beauty!

heatherheatherheatherandmaiya  asked:

what would chansaw and mcnamawyer get each other for christmas?

hmmm i always suck at present questions bc i suck at presents myself

okay heather c would get veronica clothes that she would want to see veronica in, (also lingerie) and accessories (bc veronica cant accessorize for shit) but she would also get her tickets to see her favorite band/meet and greet and like get her the limited edition box set of her favorite “stupid” movies

veronica would get heather c a bunch of sappy shit just to spite her, life flowers and chocolates, but she’d also get her clothes and necklaces. most of all she just spends time with her?? bc heather can buy anything she wants, and veronica knows that deep down heather loves feeling like she's loved so that’s what she does. the whole foot massage, candle lit dinner and bath thing

heather m would get veronica really nice leather-bound journals and lots of poetry books and stuff that she doesnt really care for but she knows veronica loves. (also their house would have mistletoe everywhere lbr) but like cute little things, like a bracelet or necklace that has a book charm or something of significance

veronica would get heather m super sweet romantic stuff. flowers, promise ring, and just be super cliche about it (maybe she gets her a puppy one year) heather is a true lover of romance, so veronica plays that up a lot. tons of yellow stuff

Vampire Friends & Apology Gifts

Alec Lightwood imagine

Originally posted by lightwoodasf

Summary: Since you’ve gotten hurt on your last mission, Alec’s behavior changed towards you. Preventing you from being a Shadowhunter and doing what you love, you slowly start to feel lost.

A/N: I know this has been long overdue, but this week has been crazy. There was the Stydia kiss we had been waiting for for years, I went to a Bastille concert, got Ed Sheeran tickets, and finally, after 3 years of trying, I managed to get tickets for Tomorrowland. So clearly, I needed time to process all of this, and I can only hope your week has been as amazing as mine was.

Prompts: “I fall for the worst ones.” – “Stop blaming me for all the stupid things you do.” – “I am here to grace you with my presence.”


“What do you mean, I can’t come along on the mission?” You crossed you arms and frowned.

“Well, I can’t really make it any clearer, can I? You’re not going on the mission.” He emphasized.

“That’s not fair!” You scowled at him. “What did I do?”

He sighted, knowing you weren’t going to let this go. “You got hurt last time, remember?”

“Oh come on, that was weeks ago.” You were fuming with anger at how unreasonable he was being. “I was barely bleeding!”

“Broken bones don’t bleed, Y/N.” Alec reasoned with you. “You are not coming with us.”

You narrowed your eyes at him before giving up. “Fine!” you grunted, storming towards your room.

You watched the flickering light above the door and let out a breath before knocking on the door, only to be greeted with the pair of brown eyes you were hoping to see.

“Y/N,” Simon smiled at you, “what are you doing here?”

“I am here to grace you with my presence.” You smirked.

“You were banned from going on the mission, didn’t you?” He smirked as well, making yours drop.

“Yeah.” You grumbled.

He held the door open for you.

“Come on in.”

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1.19 | 3.16 | 3.20

send a symbol to give my muse...

○: a hug
●: a kiss (feel free to specify where)
□: a flower crown
■: a nudge in the side
♤: an uncomfortably long stare
♡: a hair ruffling
♢: a push from behind
♧: a backhand slap
☆: a fronthand slap
¤: a book to read
》: a pat on the back
¡: an apology
¿: a gift

CEO: Part Five. [smut]

A/N; I told you I hadn’t forgotten about you all. Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Enjoy lovelies! xoxo

Pairing: StilesxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: NSFW.

Word count: 5,536

Listen to this.

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four. 

Originally posted by blogfandomimaginesstuff

Derek sat on your couch, poring over the file as you hurried to your board. “Peter Hale?” You asked him, your brow quirked as you looked for the name. “He’s not on the board?” You turned back to him, his chest rising and falling with laughter. He looked down, avoiding your gaze as he calmed down, his lips still curled into a grin as he looked at you. “What’s so funny?” You asked and he shook his head yet again. “You and Stiles really are a perfect match.” You felt your body run hot, a blush rolling across your cheeks as Derek went back to looking through the file. “Thanks Derek, I’ll call Cupid, see if he owes me any favors?” You scowled, your arms crossed tightly against your chest, clutching your ribs as you felt vulnerable.  

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We'll call it TAL roBOTS

I work for an upscale clothing store and I am in their call center so I can fix people and stores problems. Not all that long ago we mailed out a fuck ton of $2 and $15 coupons and people went bat shit crazy over these. So of course most people wait until the last day to use them and so it’s like 7p the very last day of these coupons and we get slammed. We literally had 100+ calls waiting (usually we only have about 20 or so for sales). So I answer the phone in a friendly tone and this woman, I swear, goes “Oh my god I finally got someone to answer the phone, I’m very displeased that I had to wait 20 minutes for someone to answer a damn phone”. I simply came back with “I’m sorry ma'am we have over 100 people who are waiting for 20 minutes as well” and she asked to speak to another agent so I put her back on hold to speak with someone else. Apparently this bitch of a woman complained so much and my one comment THAT WASN’T EVEN SAID IN A DEROGATORY MANOR, that my ASM yelled at me for 10 minutes because the company is now sending her an apology letter and $100 gift card. In the same month this happened I had 4 customers ask to speak to a manager to compliment my customer service, opened 4 Credit Cards, and had 3 orders that were over $1,000 and I got credit for none of that but by god she threatened to put me in “professionalism training” for this ONE customer. I’m so tired of customers acting like children and being praised for it.

Music Series: When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars

Aww, Harry’s so sweet! I loved writing my stories tonight. Sometimes I really feel them and those are the ones that I don’t care as much if anyone else loves them or doesn’t, because I do.

This story was written from Bruno Mars’ song, “When I Was Your Man”. Bruno has such great songs, and perfect for Harry stories. I cheer for Harry and the girl he is always in these scenarios with! Is that weird? I love them and it makes me happy!

Here is a link to this song on my Spotify playlist called “Gloomy Poops”…this is a new playlist that I just added, so please give me time to add more songs. I need to get to sleep for tonight, but I promise I’ll work on it this week!: https://open.spotify.com/track/0nJW01T7XtvILxQgC5J7Wh

Enjoy, Lovies! xo



“Baby, I’m home!” Harry shouts as he walks into the home you share. He walks in and peeks into a couple of rooms looking for you but doesn’t see you. “Love?” He walks into the bedroom, then to the master bath, and notices some of your things that are usually there are missing. He walks back into the bedroom, opening the closet door, and sees all of your clothes and shoes are gone. “Oh, baby, no…”

Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now

Our song on the radio but it don’t sound the same

When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down

‘Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name

You sat in the hotel room, quiet and alone. Sadness consumes you. You hated leaving Harry, but things had changed so much in your relationship over the few years you were together, you felt it was time. He wasn’t the same. He used to practically put you on a pedestal, which wasn’t necessary, but was part of the charm that had won you over. Always thinking of you, keeping you a part of his life.

As you lay in bed, unable to sleep, you see the light on your phone light up with a call. Looking at the screen, you see Harry’s name at the top with the photo you used of him for his contact photo. He must be home now, you thought. He knows. You stare at the screen, then a moment later, see the notification that you had a voicemail. You just couldn’t. You didn’t want to hear his voice. You knew he would be hurt that you left, or would he? Maybe it would be a relief to him.

Call after call, voicemail after voicemail, text after text. Finally, after dozens and dozens of calls, you gain the courage to listen to a voicemail.

‘Baby, where are you? Please, call me! We have to talk! You can’t just leave me, babe. We love each other! Please, baby, please call me.’

You sob into your hands, listening to voicemail after voicemail. You listen as his messages circle through the stages of grief. Beginning with panic, he quickly fell into the denial.

No, I don’t accept this, love. I know I’ve not been around much, but…you knew this is my life. We’ve been together a long…’ he says as the voicemail cuts him off. The messages quickly move to anger then negotiation.

‘Baby, please. I’ll come get you so we can talk. I…I’ll do anything, love, anything. Just please, don’t do this…’

You hear him sniff and cry into the phone as the messages change in emotion again. ‘Sweetheart…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, please. I love you. Please don’t do this. Please…’

Too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers, and held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours, when I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

Now my baby’s dancing, but she’s dancing with another man

A couple of weeks passed and Harry hadn’t seen you or talked to you. He was worried about you, not knowing where you were, and left messages, begging you to let him know you were okay. You couldn’t bring yourself to call him. That damn charm of his. You knew yourself and him well enough to know that, if you talked to him, he would persuade you somehow to meet with him and talk, and you weren’t ready for that. You remembered how he could be…how he was for most of your relationship together.

On your first date together, Harry arrived at your door with a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. Every week for years after, he would bring you another bouquet…always of wildflowers, being your favorite. He also loved to be touching you. Whether his arm around you, his hand holding yours, his arm around you as you both slept, his hand on your leg as you drove somewhere together…he loved the nearness of you.

But, as his life became hectic again with the success of his solo career, and the upcoming news of One Direction reuniting for a spell, Harry had changed. It was common for a person in his position to let the success go to his head, you just didn’t think it would happen with Harry. He was so down-to-earth and humble. You didn’t understand how that had changed, but it had.

You sent him a text that simply read, ‘I’m okay. No worries.’

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways

Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life

Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh

And it haunts me every time I close my eyes

Harry had become so consumed in his work and the rest of his life, that he had made his relationship with you less of a priority. You understood that he stayed busy. You were always okay with, and accepting, of that. It was his job, after all. But little things began mounting that were wearing you down. Not calling you to let you know he wouldn’t be home, that he was going to a party…for business, of course. Or spending the day shopping, not asking if you would have liked to come along, then bragging about all of his purchases and talking endlessly about his day, not even asking about yours.

But the worst was the day that became the last straw. You were surprised when he didn’t mention it was your birthday first thing off that morning, but you knew he had a lot to do that day, so you let it go. Then no phone call or texts all day, apologizing for not saying anything that morning. Finally when he came home late that night, you were at least expecting a last minute apology, or a gift…but there was nothing. And what hurt the most was the fact that his plans that evening had been attending the birthday bash of another celebrity. You were heartbroken.

Too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers, and held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours, when I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

Now my baby’s dancing, but she’s dancing with another man

Harry sat alone in his home, no tv on, no music playing, just sitting and thinking. Occasionally he would think of a line for a lyric and jot it down, but that’s how emotions worked. Some of the best songs were written during times of sadness and misery.

He stared at the screen of his phone as he looked at photos of you and him together. Photos from the last rainy day that you spent lazing around the house together. Photos of your last holiday you took, spending a week on a secluded beach. Photos of you and he at his family Christmas gathering. Harry knew he fucked up.

He knew you were ‘the one’. He knew you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and he made selfish choices and lost you. He beat himself up over it every day as he surrounded himself with loneliness, and every night as he lay in the bed he used to share with you. He hadn’t had the strength to wash your pillowcase, afraid of it losing the scent of you.

In a moment of desperation, Harry called your best friend, begging her one final time to tell him where you were.

Although it hurts, I’ll be the first to say that I was wrong

Oh, I know I’m probably much too late

To try and apologize for my mistakes

But I just want you to know

You finished getting ready for the event your date had invited you to. A friend had begged that you attend with her cousin, who needed a date, and after telling her no a few times, you finally caved and agreed, hoping she would leave you alone after that.

You looked at yourself in the full-length mirror, examining your body to make sure you looked good enough for such a gathering. As you looked at your reflection, you remembered you were wearing Harry’s favorite dress on you. He had even bought your shoes for you as a surprise, saying they would be the perfect shoes to adorn such lovely feet in such a beautiful dress. You were going to wear your hair down, then remembered Harry preferred it up in that dress, and without really thinking hard on it, quickly pulled your hair up and walked to the door after hearing the bell.

I hope he buys you flowers, I hope he holds your hand

Give you all his hours, when he has the chance

Take you to every party, ’Cause I remember how much you loved to dance

Do all the things I should have done, when I was your man

Do all the things I should have done, when I was your man

As you walk into the party, your date walks off, talking to others he knows. At first you thought it rude, but after experiencing his dull personality on the drive there, you were relieved. After a miserable evening, you finally excused yourself from the party, telling your date you needed to leave, and not to bother, you would take a cab.

Exiting the elevator, you reached your floor and turned to walk toward your door. As you rounded the corner by your room, you stopped dead in your tracks and looked at the figure sitting on the floor in front of your door.

Harry quickly stood, looking at you, seeing how beautiful you were in his favorite dress, unable to speak. He missed you, and it was the first time he’d seen you since you left.

You looked at him nervously, licking your lips, feeling your heart racing. Before you could speak, Harry bends down and picks up something from the floor.

“Wildflowers,” you say, breathlessly as he holds them out to you. You see a tear fall from Harry’s eye and feel him take your hand in his. He stands closer to you. You see his pulse beating rapidly beneath the skin on his neck.

“Please…can we talk? I’ll do anything for you, love. Anything, just…give me another chance.”