been working on this all afternoon and p proud of it

Heart on My Sleeve

Summary: Bucky feels ready for his first tattoo. Only problem is, he’s not sure what to get. Until he gets unexpected help from his four year old daughter. 

Characters/Relationships: Bucky x reader; Daddy!Bucky; Bucky x OC

Warnings: None, except perhaps my shit writing. 

A/N: This was inspired by an ask from @papi-chulo-bucky. |1| |2| 

And I guess by writing this, I officially come out of the shadows. Yes Delilah, I am your 💎, your diamond anon lol. Hi!

Originally posted by divergente-en-llamas

Heart on My Sleeve

For several months now, you were hearing Bucky’s incessant musings on the subject of tattoos. They weren’t as common in his era as they are now. Back then, soldiers used them more as identifiers instead of the general population. But now, Bucky couldn’t walk down the street without bumping into someone who had some kind of ink etched on their skin. 

And if he was being entirely honest with himself, you were a big reason that inspired his decision. The first time you two slept together was the first time he had seen your tattoo. Moments in between your passionate lovemaking, he’d trace his finger, both flesh and metal, along the ink on your upper thigh, utterly hypnotized by the simple swirl. 

“Why a swirl?” He asked. 

“It’s stupid,” you sheepishly admitted. 

“Come on doll, tell me,” Bucky insisted.

And so, you divulged to Bucky your vulnerability. You explained to him how the tattoo was actually covering an array of overlapping scars from years of cutting yourself. He knew about your longstanding battle with crippling depression. But what he didn’t know was that you used to indulge in self harm. 

Right around the time that you started getting better was the time you fell in love with the Harry Potter series. And you had heard in interviews with JK Rowling that she had based the dementors in the third book off her own battle with depression. Malevolent creatures that sucked the happiness out of your very soul could be destroyed with the power of a happy memory. But by no means did that mean it’d be easy. The charm that repelled dementors required great concentration. “I mean, how could it not? Your very soul is being sucked out of you, you’re wishing for death, and you’re supposed to think of something that makes you happy?” you told Bucky. But there was something about that message that resonated deeply with you. That there’s this simplicity in believing that if you were happy once before, why couldn’t that be hope enough that you could be happy again. 

“But why the swirl?” Bucky asked. You laughed and explained that it’s believed by Harry Potter fans that each spell has its own hand movement along with its incantation. The swirl was supposedly the hand movement, nothing confirmed but enough to convince you, you explained. “So, there you go!” you laughed. Now whenever your depression threatened to get the best of you, reducing you to the urges to self harm again, you simply traced your finger along the swirl of your tattoo and reminded yourself that there were happy memories in your life worth holding on to, and many more happy memories to come. 

“It’s a way of looking toward my future while honoring my painful past. There’s beauty in seeing how far you’ve come. I guess I’ve come to accept that maybe I’m not supposed to forget what happened to me but having strength in not letting it define me. It’s made me who I am today.”

After hearing that story, how could Bucky possibly come up with his own idea for a tattoo? He didn’t want any dime a dozen tattoo after hearing your story. He wanted his tattoo to mean something as well. 

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Bucky sauntered over to the couch and settled in. He took out a legal pad and began scribbling his ideas. The date he met you? The date you both told each other ‘I love you’ for the first time? Your name written in Romanian? After all, he did meet you in Bucharest when Steve finally found him during that mess with the Accords. Maybe the coordinates of Coney Island, the place he and Steve spent so much of their youth at when they were just kids in Brooklyn and before everything in their lives turned so damn complicated? The date he asked you to marry him and you said yes? The date you found out you were pregnant? 

Technically they were all great possible ideas, but none of them resonated with him. He loved every single one of those moments with you, and with Steve. But when he heard your choice of word ‘resonate’, it just put all the more pressure on him. He was just about to give up for the afternoon when he heard the faint sound of the door unlocking. Tossing a glance over at the clock in the kitchen, it was just about that time that you’d be arriving home with your daughter after picking her up from preschool. Bucky got up and tossed the beer bottle in the trash just as the door swung completely open. 

Greeted by the sight of a wide toothless smile, Bucky lowered to the ground, balancing himself on the balls of his feet and held his arms out. 

“Daddy!!!” your daughter cried out, dropping her ladybug backpack on the floor ungraciously before running to Bucky, the sound of yours and his laughter echoing through the house before you closed the door and followed your daughter’s suit. 

“Hey princess!” he said with equal enthusiasm, sweeping her up into his arms and planting a great big kiss on her cheek, followed by kissing you on the lips. “How was my girl’s day at school today?” 

“Great daddy! I wanna show you something!” She giggled, squirming until Bucky set her back down on the floor. 

The tiny tot grabbed Bucky’s metal hand and pulled him toward the coffee table where he had left the legal pad. She fished around for any writing device she get her hands on. Taking pity on her, Bucky grabbed the pen he was using earlier that was only a few feet away from her and placed it in front of her. The two of you sat on the couch as your daughter bent her tiny body over and leaned on the coffee table, writing what you could only imagine. When she was finished, she pulled back and moved to the side so you and Bucky could see what she did. In big handwriting was the name of your daughter perfectly scrawled out on the paper. The “e’s” and the “c’s” weren’t backwards. The “b” wasn’t confused for “d”, “p”, or “q”. There on the paper was name “Rebecca”, written perfectly by your daughter. 

“I’m so proud of you babydoll!” Bucky said, picking Rebecca up and placing her on his lap. “You finally wrote your name perfectly. You did this in school today?” 

“Yeah,” Rebecca blushed. “Teacher said she was so proud. Said I’ve been working really hard.”

“It shows princess,” Bucky beamed. 

And nothing had ever been truer. While only four years old and in preschool, you and Bucky could already tell your Rebecca Winifred Barnes was going to be a perfectionist student. Nothing would be peaceful until she nailed anything she was working on. 

That night while you were preparing dinner, you watched as your daughter kept practicing writing her name on any surface she could get her hands on, with Bucky looking on every bit the proud father he was. There’d been a time when he believed that these type of moments would never have been possible for him. That the former deadly Soviet assassin and fist of HYDRA would find freedom, peace, and especially love was a foreign concept to him. And yet there it had been. He was on his knees beside your daughter, a bright and exuberant smile in its purest form on his face. He looked at Rebecca as though she created the stars in the sky herself. A former assassin who was good at masking his emotions around his team could never hide how he really felt when he was around his daughter. When it came to Rebecca, Bucky really did wear his heart on his sleeve. 

That following morning, Bucky showed up to your work, his flesh bicep bandaged. 

“Babe! What happened? Oh my god are you hurt?” You shrieked, running over to check his arm. 

Bucky just laughed and kissed your forehead. “I’m fine doll. I just came back from the tattoo parlor,” he said proudly. 

“You finally decided on a tattoo?” you smiled. “That’s great. Though I wish you’d told me. I could’ve gone with you.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I guess I was just really excited about it,” Bucky shrugged. 

“Well show me,” you encouraged. 

Knowing Bucky couldn’t take the bandage off just yet, he took his phone out and scrolled through his pictures until he found what he’d been looking for. He turned the camera over to your possession and you marveled at your husband’s new tattoo, tears brimming in your eyes. Written on the inside of his bicep was your daughter’s name, Rebecca. In her own handwriting, permanently etched into Bucky’s arm. 

“Now my heart is literally on my sleeve,” Bucky gushed. 

“You know she’s just going to love this!” You agreed. “I’m curious though. What inspired this?”

Bucky smiled and reverently kissed your lips. “There’s beauty in seeing how far you’ve come. I guess I’ve come to accept that maybe I’m not supposed to forget what happened to me but having strength in not letting it define me. It’s made me who I am today,” he replied, echoing your words from all those years ago from the first time you two had slept together. 

“Bucky I said that a long time ago. It’s been years. And you remembered?” 

“You were the reason I did this in the first place,” Bucky said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world to understand. “Of course I’d remember.”

“I love you James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I love you too Y/N Barnes.”


A/N: If you see a strikethrough in your URL, it’s because I couldn’t tag you. I tried and for some reason it wouldn’t let me. Please don’t think I didn’t want to tag you, and if there’s anyone I forgot to tag, please let me know so I can fix it right away.  

Not that anyone cares, but Y/N’s tattoo is actually based on my own, so that’s why I went into such depth in detail. And that was actually me holding back. Lol. 

Also, really quick, please don’t take this mean that I’m bashing or judging anyone who has a tattoo that doesn’t have some “deep resonating significance”. I realize not everyone has tattoos like that, and I completely respect anyone’s right to choose the type of tattoo they want. The choice of tattoo/tattoo backstory was just based on my own experience because it was easier for me to write it that way. That’s it. 

Tag List

@bvckysbitch @allyp1023 @supreme-ruler-of-the-nerds @imaginary-marvel-mayhem @winter-in-wakanda @justwantablog @ff-exotic12 @the-loud-and-crazy-rabbit-pirate @pickylittlebitch @azaleawardrobeo @winterscldicr @heismyhunter@the-renaissance @minaphobia @your-puddin @xoxoaudreymarie @sleepretreat @tori-medusa-belongs-to-bucky@amrita31199 @bxtchybrie @abovethesmokestacks@themarveloussideoflife @jade-cheshire @bellamouse16 @hardcorehippos @eralgrey @supernaturaldean67 @sammysgirl1997 @ladyale-1993 @sassyandclassyx @shamvictoria11@littlxshit @writingblockswriters @temperphantrum @smile-sugar @curlyxtomato @avengershavethetardis@iamwarrenspeace @buckyfvckmebarnes @daisyboo11 @softwhispers @gerardwayisapotato @itsevalace @the-squid-one @annie-are-u-ok @genlovesdcb @mariah-notcarey17 

anonymous asked:

I'm just feeling p worthless and I'm sure at some point Maggie has too so can we have Alex just randomly telling Maggie how much she means to her and how amazing she is, how much she loves her. And I need Maggie to be a mess bc haha same.

Same my darling Anon. Same. Sending you so much love: you are worth everything!!! <3 <3 <3

She doesn’t say anything about it on the days when it hits her worst. She doesn’t say anything about it because talking isn’t exactly her style.

But she hits at her heavy bag harder, she takes more risks at work, she takes more shots at the bar, she’s quieter at dinner, she’s quieter in bed.

She doesn’t say anything about it, but Alex knows anyway.

Knows that Maggie tries not to – tries so hard, sometimes, that it tears away at her insides and eats away at her perfect smile – but she knows that Maggie believes the things her exes have said to her, the things her father has said to her, the things the chemical imbalances coursing through her bloodstream and neural pathways say to her, the things the world has said about brown queer girls who think they have a right to be happy.

Knows that more often than not, Maggie Sawyer feels worthless.

Feels like she’s just going through the motions. Like every achievement she’s had is luck. Like every tear she sheds is weakness. Like every struggle she has is fake. Like every break she takes from a job full of death and full of torture and full of iron bars eats away at her value as a person, because how can she be worth anything at all if she’s not spending all her time, every second of it, in service to others?

So on the days when Maggie’s smile is just a little forced; the mornings when Alex catches her just staring at the ground, elbows resting on spread knees, chewing on her lip; the nights when she laughs a little too loudly or doesn’t laugh much at all; the afternoons when she works at the heavy bag until she can barely stand up; Alex makes sure to tell her extra, to show her more, to prove to her… everything.

She’ll bring her lunch at the precinct, and she’ll whisper “for the most beautiful woman in the multiverse” in her ear as she slips it into her hands.

She’ll draw her a bath and take off her jacket and boots when she walks in the door, and she’ll murmur “only the best for the best girlfriend in history” into her ear as she slowly strips off her clothes and leads her to the candlelit bathroom.

She’ll pull her close during game night, when she’s forcing a laugh that’s slightly louder than it would normally be, not detectable to anyone else, but Alex knows, so Alex tickles her, and Alex kisses her ear and ignores James and Winn’s whooping as she teases, “I’m so proud to finally have such an incredible and perfect girlfriend to help me kick these losers’ asses”, and she smiles when that’s what gets a genuine smile to flicker across Maggie’s face, and actually reach her eyes.

She’ll text her in the middle of the day, just because, and the just because texts range from thinking of you, beautiful girl to I hope the best cop ever is having the best day ever to Have I told you lately that you’re more beautiful than the most perfect sunrise? Because… you are to I had an amazing time last night, Mags. I can’t wait to be in your strong, gorgeous arms again.

She’ll stare across the living room at Maggie, pretending to read while Maggie pretends to work, watching Maggie’s eyes just fix on a single spot on the ground, her jaw grinding slightly. And Alex will take off her glasses, and she’ll close her book, and she’ll just straight up tell her: “Maggie, you know I… I’ve never been in love before. But I’m in love with you. Because you are the kindest, most generous, bravest woman I have ever known. And yes, yes, I know Supergirl’s my sister, but Kara doesn’t count, okay? I just… Maggie, you are everything I have ever wanted, and you are just… you’re smart, and you’re tough, and you’re just… beautiful. You’re so beautiful. That’s what I told my sister, you know, the day I came out to her. About you. And now that we’re dating, now that I know you better? Maggie, my life changed forever the day Kara came into my life. And the day J’onn came into my life. And it… it changed, I hope forever, the day you came into my life. Because you… you’re amazing, Maggie. You’re amazing, and I admire you. I admire you and I… I’m in love with you. And that’s… you… you’re worth everything. You are everything. I just… I just want you to know that, in case I don’t say it enough, or show you enough, I just… I need you to know those things.”

And suddenly Maggie is on her knees, on the ground in front of the couch, and Alex tosses her book away and she collects Maggie into her arms, because Maggie is sobbing, her entire body wracked with sobs, with grief, with relief, with disbelief, with I don’t deserve you and why would you say those things and Al, Alex, Al, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry and I don’t deserve you, I don’t, I don’t, I’m sorry.

And Alex is shushing her softly and Alex is rocking her gently, and Alex is kissing her hair and kissing the tears off her face and pulling her closer into her lap and, when Maggie’s breathing finally starts to even out again, she’s cupping her face in her hands and looking her straight in the eyes.

“Maggie, I’m not going anywhere. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, but that’s not even the point: let’s just say we deserve each other and call it even, okay?”

This gets a shaky laugh out of Maggie, and Alex kisses her nose.

“You’re worth it, Maggie. You’re worth everything. If I am, you certainly are. Okay? We can be worth it together. Deal?”

There’s a long pause and Alex holds her breath, because she’s never done this with anyone but Kara and maybe she’s bad at it, but then Maggie’s lips are quirking into a smile and Maggie is wrapping her arms around Alex’s shoulders.

“You getting soft on me, Danvers?”

“Always, Sawyer.”

You Me Her

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 

Chapter Eight: Adam

Word Count: 2759

↠ ♥ ↞

Two weeks after Kade’s party, where Riley kissed Caitlin, the brunette lightly skips down the halls of school in pursuit of her two best friends, Kai and Noah. Riley finds them on the bench seat by the hole, the two Juniors sit shoulder to shoulder, a laptop resting on Kai’s knee as they both huddle together watching something. Laughter drifting towards Riley as she approaches. 

The two weren’t overdosing in PDA by any means but they looked so happy and content. Both teens lift their gazes once they notice Riley’s presence. 

“You look extra smiley today, Sunshine.” Noah highlights with a grin of his own.

“Any reason in particular?” Kai pats the space beside him on the bench. 

With a soft smile Riley takes the seat and simply states, “I think I’m ready to date.“ 

Keep reading

“Some Sort of Neighborly” (11/11) | Once Upon a Time

Title: Some Sort of Neighborly - (11/11)
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Rating: M
Genre: Romance/Humor
Words: 4,374/45,653
Completed: 02/27/2017
Summary: Modern!AU Captain Swan. They’re not neighbors, not exactly, and they’re not friends either. It’s pretty hard to find reasons to bump into the woman who lives next door to your best friend, especially after your only interaction with her has been waking up on her couch one Saturday morning. Sequel to Rude Awakening.

And now, two-and-a-half years after the first chapter was posted: Some Sort of Neighborly is finally finished! I’m still in a little disbelief, to be honest. Writing this story has been such a valuable lesson on persistence, and although I do wish this had happened a long time ago (since it definitely reads like I’d written it back then, too, thanks to my original outline O O P), I’m still very proud of being able to push through to the end :)

Whether you’ve been here from the start (in which case, I’M STILL VERY SORRY), or you’re picking up this fic for the first time just now, or you’re anywhere in between: thank you so much for reading! Extra love to @katie-dub, @kmomof4, and @shady-swan-jones – all of your lovely messages about this story never fail to make me smile <33

Hope you enjoy!

On AO3 here | On here | On Tumblr under “Read More”

Some Sort of Neighborly

Chapter 11

He wakes to the scent of clean linen and crisp air on his nose, which he buries into his pillow with a groan.

For a long moment, it’s all he can do to simply lie there, feeling the sheets tangled around his legs and the warm autumn sun, flickering gently through the curtains, on the bare skin of his back. Lazy mornings are both a welcome indulgence and a dangerous habit for someone with his sleep schedule, but the languid contentment that’s burrowed its way into his bones refuses to let up – or, for that matter, let him think about much else – even as he stretches and feels every muscle in his body hum with a pleasant ache.

Especially for his muddled mind, then, it’s difficult to pinpoint if he’s only awoken because he missed his alarm and slept halfway through the day – until a muffled, distressed voice smashes his peaceful bliss into bits.

“It’s just, sometimes – he can be such an asshole, you know?”

Keep reading

reminiscence pt. I

part two: here

part three: here

part four: here


Your name: submit What is this?


1971. Y/N stood on the bustling train platform, the clamour of screeching owls and the hustling of luggage making her quite dizzy. Children and parents were bumping into her tiny frame continuously, in a hurry to say their goodbyes. Teary eyed mothers tousled their little one’s hair, reminding them over a hundred times to write letters, do well at school and make friends. Like most other first years, Y/N nervously clutched the handle of her trunk, a little scared yet a little excited, ready to leave her daily life behind, for the world of wizardry and witchcraft.

That was 6 years ago. Y/N (L/N) was now in her 6th year at Hogwarts; a proud Gryffindor, a thriving student and an amazing friend. Her first year had been splendid and she had made acquaintances quite easily, almost immediately befriending another scared, red-headed muggleborn on the train. Lily Potter. Their friendship had blossomed, and in time, the two of them grew very close to a certain group of unruly, fierce, clever boys. The Marauders were her best friends; looking out for Y/N all the time, always accepting and understanding. Their small family felt like home, a happy, safe place where nothing could ever go wrong.


It was way past midnight. Y/N lay on the plush, vintage mattress in the Gryffindor common room, the warm light of the fireplace making her skin glow like liquid gold, warming her up from the inside. The smell of hot cocoa pervaded through the cozy room, the atmosphere growing soporific, making her drowsier by the minute. She had come down to try and work on her potions essay, but the book strewn carelessly across her lap and the empty pieces of folded parchment were a clear indication that no studying had been done that night. In her defense, Lily, the marauders and a few of her other friends had sauntered down as well, and the endless gossip and laughter was obviously distracting. Y/N was at the border between sleep and awake, her mind wandering off to recall happy memories as she gazed at the faces of her smiling friends, people who had grown to become extremely important parts of her life.

She thought about her first two years, when the boys had just begun talking to her and Lily, and how their friendship grew with every little prank and argument. Come third year, Y/N had written to them all summer, sharing secrets and stories, describing the muggle world and her small daily adventures. Studying became of more importance from that year on, and late night cramming sessions led by Remus in the common room, with cups of coffee and chocolate frogs had become a regularity. It always somehow watered down to them laughing and talking into the wee hours of dawn, falling asleep amidst their books, completely exhausted. She would never forget their simple game of truth or dare towards the beginning of fourth year, when she had jokingly dared Lily to kiss Remus, and the pair had shyly complied, earning an outraged, quite over-dramatic reaction from James, who had stormed out of the room. It was the first time the group was made aware of his little crush on Lily. It was the first time Y/N had properly talked to her about boys, giggling and blushing profusely at the mention of every other attractive lad. It was the first time she had come to realize that Sirius Black was absolutely gorgeous.


Sirius Black. Though Y/N adored and cared for all her friends equally, the charming young man always held a special place in her heart. He had always been the first to tease her when they were younger, and the first to wipe her tears. He stood up for her, yelling at anyone who dared to make even the smallest negative comment. As 13 year olds, barely into their teens, the two had often sneaked out of bed to climb up to the astronomy tower, where he had confided in her, telling her everything about his family. (Y/N) had held him close, stroking his hair and whispering words of encouragement until he calmed down. After the girls had found out about Moony’s condition, they would stay up on those few nights, waiting for the boys to come back. She had tended to his wounds, worry etched on her face every time he winced or groaned. She had been there to witness all of his escapades, his seemingly never ending loop of courting and then breaking countless girls’ hearts. She had stood with Remus, laughing and reprimanding Sirius for his foolish antics.  She had watched him go from one girl to the next, and had poured her heart out to Lily, tears pooling in her eyes.

She thought of one of the infamous Gryffindor Christmas parties, thrown by the seventh years who had managed to sneak in bottles of firewhiskey and boxes of chocolates. Having fought with Sirius just that afternoon, she had brought Regulus along as a date just to spite him. Much to her dismay, he had brought along one of his fangirls, who wouldn’t stop swooning over the dark haired boy, making her blood boil. Both Sirius and Y/N had spent that entire party, glaring at each other, definitely not having a good time. Their ego got the best of them, and they wouldn’t dare admit how much they wished they had spent that night with each other. It was the first time Y/N thought there could be something more than friendship there.  

She smiled as her most secretive, cherished memories surfaced; the few nights she had spent tucked into his arms. Usually after a thrilling Quidditch game or after studying for hours, the two would find themselves pressed closely against each other on the couch, her hands in his soft hair, his hands rubbing warm circles into her lower back, their legs a tangle of limbs. She loved every version of Sirius, but that version was her favourite. Vulnerable and kind, making her feel loved and protected. He would whisper soft nothings in her ear and intertwine their fingers, making her heart race faster than usual. Of course in the morning, the two would play it off as just two friends cuddling, much oblivious to their own feelings.


Her reverie ended as Remus softly said goodnight and kissed her on the forehead, shuffling out of the common room. Y/N sat up as well, deciding it was finally time to turn in. Her sleepy orbs scanned the room, a barely visible smile absentmindedly creeping onto her lips. James and Lily were cuddled up on the couch, and Y/N  let out a small laugh, already hearing Lily’s excuses stating she had been coerced. Molly and a few other girls, were sat on the rug, conversing through whispers and smiles, eyeing a group of seventh year boys at the far end of the room. Peter had fallen asleep on a nearby armchair, his legs flung over the edge, a book lopsidedly covering half his face. She picked her things up, stacking her books neatly, while standing up and stretching slowly, her smile freezing as her eyes landed on a certain male.  Sirius was nestled snuggly in a large chair, a random girl curled up in his lap, whispering something in his ear, making him elicit a soft laugh, a little twinkle visible in his eyes. Y/N swallowed hard, her jaw set as she abruptly walked out, catching the dark haired boy’s attention.  As she stormed up the stairs, misty teardrops cascaded down her cheeks, her mind swimming with contempt for herself. What was the point in pinning after him for so long? He had unknowingly broken her heart so many times. It wasn’t even his fault. If only Y/N could pluck up the courage to tell him how she felt. If only she had could stand out, make him notice her, make him fall for her just as she had fallen for him, fallen for his obnoxious laugh, his warm eyes, his compassion and his chivalry. If only he knew. She had tried, she had tried to make it obvious to him, with her long hugs, random kisses on the cheeks, her little sighs every time he did something adorable, her little frowns every time he prowled after another girl. But what more could Y/N do?

What if he was her Romeo but she just wasn’t his Juliet?

Ryden Theory

Ryden.  Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie.  The two men who have royally fucked up my life.  I wanted to “decode”  their relationship.  Song lyrics, interview, lore.  Everything.  If anyone has read M Theory about Sherlock, that is the feel I’m going for.  I’m going to do this chronologically, but first a quick overview of Ryden and a little background.   Even If you don’t believe they were in love, the loss of friendship is just as sad.


A lot of this is speculation.  I love Brendon, Ryan, Jon, Spencer, Dallon and Sarah.  


So, Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie are both known because of the band Panic!  At the Disco.  A band that has had no fewer than nine members.  The originals, Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith, and Brent Wilson.  Ryan and Spencer had been friends since they were five and had begun the band playing Blink-182 covers.  Many splits over twelve years, leaving lead singer, Brendon Urie, the only original member left.  


Panic!  Was originally Ryan and Spencer Smith (original drummer’s)  band, joined by Brent Wilson (original bassist)  who was the one to bring in Brendon.  The thing is, Brendon was originally the backup guitarist with Ryan as lead vocals.  After hearing Brendon sing they made him lead singer and Ryan the lead guitarist.  Ryan was reluctant to let Brendon take over, these were HIS songs about HIS struggles.  Both Ryan and Brendon have talked about how hard it was for them to communicate on how to sing the songs.  You might know the next bit,  they sent some demos (Camisado, Time to Dance, Nails for Breakfast and Tacks for Snacks)  to Pete Wentz (Fall Out Boy bassist)  who flew to LA and watched them practice.  He ended up signing them to his label, decaydance.  Ryan wrote all of the songs from A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out, the album including hit, I Write Sins Not Tragedies.  Chances are, this is the first P!atd song you ever heard.  Ryan and Brendon were beginning to warm up to each other.


Panic!  Really hit it big in 2006.  They sold 10, 000 albums in the first week.  Later on that year they won ‘MTV video of the Year’ for I Write Sins.  They began to tour. This is around the time they started the ‘stage-gay’.  You may have seen the ‘Perfect Passionate Kiss’ video  ( .  Later this year the first split occurred, bassist Brent Wilson was kicked out of the band.  It was revealed that he didn’t record any bass on the album.  Instead, Brendon had filled in and recorded all of the bass.  The Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour replaced Brent with Jon Walker.  The Circus tour’s most notable event was

Myrtle Beach.

Myrtle Beach

Panic! Had a dancer named Dream, who every night would go on stage and say that Brendon was a virgin.  In an interview, Dream said this was a lie.  Greta Salpeter from Hush Sound, who was touring with Panic!  Said that they went skinny dipping at Myrtle Beach around midnight.    This is normal.  Friends skinny dip together all the time.  What makes it part of Ryden Lore is good ol’ Ryro’s livejournal post later that night.

6-25-06 01:21:28 PDT - (No Subject)

The moon bred new Atlantic life tonight. the salt burned you right out of my eyes. and secrets we’re not proud of were taken with the tide. We were all newborns with blurred vision and no sense of direction.

Today I saw cancer, cigarettes and shortness of breath. this is why I walk to the ocean. swim with jellyfish. I may never get this chance again. this is why if you want to kiss you should kiss. If you want to cry you should cry, and if you want to live you should live. You don’t have to love me. You already did. At least enough to keep me smiling from South Carolina to Virginia. it’s for lovers (orjustfriends) This is why I do it.


Also, I’m going to mention a few lyrics here.  I will go deeper into lyrics later on.

Northern Downpour

Hey moon, please forget to fall down.

I’m just going to say, it’s probable that Ryan and Brendon fucked that night.  I think this lyric is about not wanting that night to end.  Hey moon, don’t you go down.  Don’t go down because that means this night is over.  A night which was probably one of the best of their lives.


2007 was pretty uneventful.  They started to work on Pretty. Odd, around the same time Ryan’s dad passed away.  They worked through it though.  The band.


They released the first single Nine in the Afternoon, early in 2008.  What stands out about this song is really the video.  Despite having great lyrics, if you’re looking at this through the Ryden Conspiracy Theorist Lens™ like I am, the video really stands out.  The end especially shows how comfortable they were around each other.  It’s just really cute.  I don’t want to talk about Northern Downpour yet because it’s 1 AM and I don’t want to cry right now.  So we’re going to talk about  When The Day Met The Night.  This is the Sun and Moon theory.  Ryan is the sun, Brendon is the moon.  Some believe it’s the other way around.  Please check for why I think this.  I think that the song is a story.  A story about how they fell in love.

 When the moon (Brendon) found the sun (Ryan)  he looked like he was barely hanging on.  I think this is saying that  before Brendon, Ryan was close to giving up.  

  Her (Brendon) eyes saved his (Ryan) life.  Brendon’s love saved Ryan.  Like it or not, Brendon’s voice is what gave Panic! That little boost that it desperately needed to make it big.  Many other songs reference this particular piece of lore.  Anyway, I guess I have to do it now.  Northern Downpour.  THE Ryden song.  First, we have to talk about Ryan’s 21st birthday.  Pete threw Ryan a party in New York, which is on the EAST coast.  Ryan was the only one drinking age, so the rest flew to RAINY NORTHERN SEATTLE.  Around midnight Ryan left his party and his girlfriend, Keltie Colleen, and flew to Seattle without warning.  Maybe you’ve already figured it out.

 I missed your skin when you were east.  Ryan was on the east coast away from Brendon.  This ties in with- You clicked your heels and wished for me.  Ryan wished he was with Brendon.  

 I know the world’s a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home.  THIS LINE.  Ryan told Brendon to pay special attention to this line.  Also, this is the line when Brendon would start crying while performing it after the 2009 split.  The meaning though.  I think it’s about how yes, the world sucks, and hurts.  But if you ignore that, let the pain melt away, it’s home.  

You may be wondering how we know about Seattle.  The thing is, there’s photos of them there.  Eating at the Market.  Ryan in the same clothes as the night before.  Seattle itself is very important.  Ryan has said it’s his favourite place to perform.  Ry was driving to Seattle when he got the call that his father died.  Of course there’s also the “Maybe one day we’ll settle in Seattle” line.  Also Bren breaking down while performing   Casual Affair in Seattle.

Okay. I’m done with 2008.  Bring on 2009.


If I didn’t want to talk about Northern Downpour, I definitely don’t want to talk about 2009.  But I gotta.  Fuck 2009.  2009 is the year of the split.  The cited reason of the split is ‘Musical Differences’  I think that this is partially true.  Ryan and Jon had begun to write music on their own.  They had also started to make fun of Brendon’s attempts at writing music.  The tension was building.  They did try to work things out by going to a cabin to write their next album,  Crickets and Clover.  Never heard of it?  That’s okay.  It was never released.  Now.  Now we talk about Cape Town.

Cape Town

This was it.  The End.  I can’t really talk about Cape Town.  No one knows what happened.

The Young Veins

Ryan and Jon left.  They formed their own semi-successful band.  There’s a few song we need to talk about.  Lie to the Truth is all about how Ryan tried to love Keltie, but couldn’t.  About how he wanted needed their relationship to stay private.  But I really need to talk about Cape Town. Yes, they wrote a song about.  BUT IT’S RYAN ROSS SO NO ONE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT HE’S TALKING ABOUT.  POETIC LITTLE SHIT. Specifically, the contrast between it and The Calendar.  I think that The Calendar is very important so I’ll talk about it separately later.

Cape Town vs.  The Calendar

The Calendar

And I meant everything that I said that night.   Brendon did mean everything he said.  Presumably they had a fight.

I will come back to life, but only for you.  THIS CHANGES THE LAST LINE.  Yes, Brendon meant what he said, he was mad. But he was still in love.  He can forgive him.  Only him.

Cape Town

Woke me in the morning, asked me if I meant it.  I’m assuming Ryan said some pretty shitty things to Brendon.  But he didn’t mean them.

I loved, I left you, in Cape Town.  Ryan did love Brendon, but they couldn’t stay together.

Vices & Virtues

I love this album.  So much.  I cried the first time I listened to it.  I swear this entire album is about Ryan Ross.  Every song has meaning so this’ll take a while.

The Ballad of the Mona Lisa

Say what you mean.  Ryan stop being so cryptic and just TELL BRENDON WHAT YOU MEAN.

Let the sun rain down on me.  Sun and Moon theory.

Give me a sign, I want to believe.  Brendon wants Ryan to show him he’s still in love with him, Brendon wants them to be together.

You’re guaranteed to run this town.  Good job, Ry!  You finally have control over you music.  Even later into 2009 Ryan and Brendon still struggled with how Brendon was singing Ryan’s lyrics.  This is Bren being petty.

I’d pay to see you frown.  Brendon wants Ryan to fail so he’ll finally realize that he needs Brendon.  

Pleased to please ya.  Brendon felt like Ryan thought that it was a privilege for Brendon to sleep with him.


You’re behind my eyelids when I’m all alone.   Brendon misses Ryan.  A lot.

I led the revolution, in my bedroom.  This is talking about the fact Ryden was a LGBTQ+  relationship.

They don’t look like me.  Brendon’s a cocky lil shit.  Brendon knows that Ryan isn’t going to be with anyone more attractive than him.

They don’t sound like me.  No matter how hard Ryan and Jon try, none of those songs they write can sound like his.  They don’t have the vocal ability.

This one hurts too.  Memories

With an unrequited love.  Brendon felt that Ryan never really loved him back

She was the youngest of the family, and the last to be let go.  Brendon was the youngest of a large mormon family.

Then they decided that they would try to make it on their own.  The original four all risked everything for this chance that they would make it in the music world.

Oh memories, where’d you go?   You were all I’d ever known.  I actually think this is about Ryan and Spencer’s friendship.  One of the unanswered questions of the split is, why did Spencer side with Brendon even though Ryan had been his best friends since they were five?

How I miss yesterday.  Brendon and Spencer both just really want it to be 2009 again.

When July became December.  An overarching theme of this album is summer ending.  This is often related to the split.

But they couldn’t quite remember what inspired them to go.  After the underwhelming debut of The Young Veins, Ryan and Jon would have to watch Panic!  Make a comeback, without them.

They were fighting for their love, it was growing tired.  Brendon and Ryan tried to make it work.

When the money lost momentum.  Ryan and Jon were probably rolling in Panic!  Royalties after they left, but although they still gain a little money from their Panic! Days, it’s definitely slowed down.

They were young and independent, and they thought they had it planned. Should have known right from the start, you can’t predict the end.  At the beginning they were young, and desperate for separation from their parents.  They thought everything would be perfect.  You can’t predict how things will end.

Don’t let it fade away.  I think that this is a message to us, the fans.  Don’t let these first two albums be forgotten.

Trade Mistakes

I think this song is about Brendon’s mistakes as a lover and friend.   About how it bothers him that Ryan can seemingly just keep going without him.  Brendon knows he fucked up by letting Ryan leave, he wants to trade those mistakes for peace of mind

Ready to Go (Get Me Out Of My Mind)

You’ve got these little things, that you’ve been running from.  Ryan had a troubled childhood that still haunts him, it’s why he can’t stay with someone from his past.  These tiny things following him everywhere.

I’m ready to live.  Fuck Ryan Ross.  Brendon is learning how to be in Panic! Without Ryan.   Learning to live without Ryan.

Get me out of my mind.  Brendon wants to think about anything but Ryan.

Always  this song fucks me up too

When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back.  I think this is about how Ryan wrote songs about his struggles, then Brendon had to sing it.  Brendon would have to carry part of the burden.

You’re taking me apart.  Brendon is slowly being pulled apart, Ryan left him.  His band is split in two.

It was always you, falling for me.   Brendon now sees that Ryan did love him.  

I’m the light blinking at the end of the road, blink back to let me know.  Despite everything, Brendon is still waiting for Ryan.  He’s begging Ryan for a sign that there’s something worth waiting for.

I’m a fly that’s trapped, in a web, but I’m thinking that, my spider’s dead.  Brendon is still very in love with Ryan, but he’s beginning to believe that there’s no hope for them.

Lonely, lonely little life, I could kid myself, thinking that I’m fine.  Brendon feels alone without Ryan.  Yes, he has Spencer, but it’s not the same.  Even though he knows that Spencer can’t replace Ryan in anyway, he can make himself believe that.

The Calendar

If you don’t let it out, you’re gonna let it eat you away.  Ryan and Brendon were keeping their love a secret and it was slowly destroying them.

Pray I could replace her, forget the way her tears taste.  Brendon tried to replace Ryan and Jon with Dallon, but it wasn’t the same.

Put another X on the calendar, summer’s on its death bed.  Summer was when their love both blossomed and and died.

There’s simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends. Brendon had said in interviews that he’d hoped that they’d be together forever.  I bet if you’d told 17 year old Panic! That it would end with them all hating each other, not talking.  Toxic relationships.  They would have hesitated before signing to decaydance.

And I meant everything I said that night, I’ll come back to life, but only for you.  This is hinting at the resurgence of Panic!  Literally 90% of the songs on V&V were about Ryan.  Panic! Came back, but for Ryan.

Don’t want to call it a second chance, but when I came back, it was more of a relapse. Whenever Brendon gave Ryan a second chance it felt like he was doing drugs again, like he was high.  Like he had broken a promise to himself.

Sarah Smiles


Nearly Witches.

This song is special because it’s technically the last song written by Ryan Ross for Panic!  He didn’t write all of it though.  We need to start with the french.

Dès le premier jour, ton parfum enivra mon amour, et dans ces instants, j'aimerais être comme toi par moments, mais depuis ce jour, je n'ai qu'un seul et unique regret

From day one, my love your perfume intoxicated, and in these moments

I want to be like you at times, but since that day, I only have a single regret.  Most of this comes in again later.

Here I am, composing a burlesque.  What’s really important about this line is how Brendon performs it.  This is the last line Ryan ever wrote.  Brendon will often perform it mockingly, many people have interpreted it as Brendon being petty af and making fun of Ryan.

I only shoot up with your perfume.  Only Ryan can get him the high he craves.

I’ve got just one regret to live through, that one regret is you.  Brendon regrets Ryan, regrets their love.

I’ve got just one regret to live through, and I regret ever letting you go.  This changes the meaning of the original line.  Now, it’s about Brendon regretting letting what he and Ryan had die.  He thinks he should’ve held onto it as long as possible.

Mona Lisa, pleased to please ya.  This makes me think that the Mona Lisa is Ryan.  Even though Brendon regrets leaving Ryan, he knows he was never as much to Ryan as Ryan was to him.

The album as a whole

Brendon is a salty bitch.  

Not much happened between this and Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die.  Brendon cried while performing Northern Downpour.  Idk not much.   Oh yeah, Brendon and Sarah got married.

Too Rare to Live, Too Rare to Die

I think this album is a lot of Brendon accepting his sexuality, Ryan+Jon being gone, and the future.  A fair amount of this album was written by Dallon.  

This is Gospel

This song is about Spencer and his struggle with addiction.

Miss Jackson

When I saw Panic! In concert, Brendon said this was about a girl in Vegas.  I think that there’s some parts that apply to Ryan though.  I think when Brendon sings about no one knowing who was there, he’s talking about how they’d had to keep their love a secret.

Girl That You Love

This song was dedicated to Ryan Ross in the album notebook.

Drop every pretense.  Pretense literally means an attempt to make something that is not the case to appear true.  So basically Brendon is saying, ‘hey Ry, yeah remember how we pretended we weren’t in love.  Yeah stop that’


The song’s about how Brendon felt addicted to Ryan’s love, always saying that it would be the last time.  


I actually think this isn’t about Ryan, but instead Brendon realizing that it’s okay for him to have these feelings for another man.  

Casual Affair

This song is talking about how they’d both just said, ‘Oh it’s okay, we’re young, fooling around.’  If you want to cry watch this video of Brendon singing Casual Affair and breaking down.  In Seattle.

End of All Things

I am always yours.  Yes, Brendon’s married and loves Sarah.  But this song is about the end of an era.  Ryan will  always have a hold over Brendon, but this song is Brendon trying to move on.

We are young again.  Brendon wants to go back to the beginning.  When they were young and happy and carefree.

In these coming years, many things will change, but the way I feel, will remain the same.  Brendon wants Ryan to know things will change, he’s married now. But a part of him will always care about Ryan, no matter what.

After Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die Spencer left.  He left to go get help for is drug abuse.  Brendon began to work on Death of a Bachelor.  Ryan….  Ryan kept being emo™.

Death of a Bachelor

Doab is about Brendon falling in love with Sarah, getting married, AGAIN trying to move on.


My life started the day I got caught, under the covers.  Brendon didn’t know what life was truly like before Ryan.

Who was I trying to be?  Why were they trying to hide it?  Everyone guessed anyway.

Then the time for being sad is over, and you miss them like you miss no other, but being blue is better than being over it.   Brendon knows he should be over Ryan by now, but he still misses him.  And to Brendon, being sad about the split is better than forgetting about the love he shared with Ryan.

Death of a Bachelor

Do I look lonely?  Hey Ryan.   Ryan look. I’m married and still in the band.  I’m still friends with Spencer.  I’m not lonely.

And when you think of me, am I the best you ever had?  Does Ryan still miss Brendon like Brendon misses him.  Is Brendon still the best relationship he ever had?

Share one more drink with me, smile even though you’re sad.  Brendon is married.  Ryan can never be that person for him anymore, but Ryan has to pretend that he’s happy for Brendon.

Golden Days

Fuck this song.  If I went through every song that could possibly reference Ryden/Original band it would take pages.  So here’s some highlights.

We’ll stay drunk, we’ll stay tan, let the love remain.   The summer before the split, where they toured around the world.  That is summer that Brendon is talking about.  The summer when the band got along, where they ALL loved each other.

Golden days.  Brendon thinks these are the best days of his life.  He knows that when he’s older he’ll look back on his life and remember the summer spent with his three best friends is the of his life.

Time can never break your heart, but it can take the pain away.  Brendon knows that eventually thinking about the split will hurt less.

House of Memories

This song is a problem.  I hate it.  So much.  HOUSE OF PROBLEMS.  It has the same problem as the last one.  Highlights;

Memories turn into daydreams.  Brendon longs for days of Pretty. Odd   And the memories have slowly morphed into daydreams about what could’ve been.

Promise me a place, in your house of memories.  Ryan promise me that you won’t forget what we had.

I THINK OF YOU FROM TIME TO TIME, MORE THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD, YOU WERE JUST TOO KIND, AND I WAS TOO YOUNG TO KNOW.  Brendon knew he’d miss Ryan, but thought it would be rarer.  Now looking back, Brendon realizes that what they had was worth keeping.

These thoughts of past lovers, they’ll always haunt me.   This is a message  to Sarah saying I love you, but I can’t let go of him.

Bonus Lines

Memories tend to just pop up. Brendon doesn’t want to miss the old Panic!  But he can’t help is.  -Don’t Threaten Me With  Good Time

SPEED-DATING AU {Omegaverse} - The Fifth Date P.2

Inspiration/dedication: the speed-dating comic by bansheegrahamtao♡ 

Summary: Omega Will finds love at first sight in a diner! 

Will daubed at his kiss-swollen lips self-consciously. He’d done his best to emulate the exquisite table manners of the alpha seated across from him, to avoid offending his new mate, but he found himself too-often distracted. Hannibal would not stop staring at him, and when Will defiantly stared back, he’d been forced to look away immediately at the sight of the lurid bruise just under Hannibal’s jaw. Had he done that? Will felt an unsightly blush heat his face every time he saw it, and he could've sworn that Hannibal showed it off on purpose

Keep reading

Dear Mom,

It’s been nearly a year. I still forget. I still try to call or take pictures to show you later. I still can’t move past it.

I finished college mom. I did all the things I said I would do and I did them all unable to stop repeating the last voicemail you left.

“I love you! Wish we could make it down! I’m proud of you, talk to you soon!”

I never heard your voice again. So, now…I’m here. I’m fighting myself, trying to find the motivation to keep pursuing my dreams and to keep being me.

Instead I sleep well into the afternoon on my days off and stay up too late on days I work. I don’t call dad as often as I should because it feels like every time I do, another piece of him has gone to join you.

I can’t swallow the thoughts like I used to. I’m throwing up my food again and I can’t buy anything sharp.

I don’t know how to talk about the things that bother me. I don’t know how to tell the people who might listen that my skin feels too thin and I can’t escape losing you. I used to call you, when things weren’t going super great, just to talk about something unrelated and remember that I was someone’s little girl.

Now I don’t have anyone on the other end and I…I….

Anyways. I won’t say I’ll see you soon, but it might be sooner than I thought. After all, life is fast.

I love you. I’m sorry I’m still not alright.


anonymous asked:

Could you do domestic zimbits at Jacks place? (Your kid fic mcfreakin killed me)

“…but we started learning vocabular for food finally, so I should do well on the quiz this week.  I just spent the afternoon labeling all the food in the fridge.”

“Yeah, that’s a grat idea.”  Jack smiles, warm and proud over the Skype call.  Bitty still can’t get over this boy.  His boyfriend.

“Anyway.  Enough about my boring classes.  What do you have planned for the weekend?”  Bitty settles back agains this pillows, Senor Bun in his lap.

“Probably stalking your vlog.  I sort of agreed to have Thanksgiving at my place and I’m pretty sure my parents will chirp me to death if I serve them boiled chicken and protien shakes.”

“Oh honey, I can teach you to cook in time for Thanksgiving.  It’s not that hard, you just need time to cook it all.”

“Um, no…Not - not in November.  I meant Canadian Thanksgiving.  Which is this week.”  Bitty blinks.

“Well.  That’s a horse of a diferent color.”

“I’m screwed.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am!  How am I gonna learn this in like three days?  Bitty, I lived in a frat house for three years.  There was a reason I had a meal plan.”

“You’re gonna be fine, because you’re not gonna cook it.  We don’t have a game this weekend, I’ll take a train down Saturday morning and I will cook dinner.”

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Live Wild - part 12 (drabble series)

Police!AU Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and her friends are in a store when a group of men come to rob the place. Reader finds a hiding place and call the police. Detective James Barnes will help her through this terrifying situation.

Word Count: 1,765 (lol this isn’t a drabble AT ALL)

Warnings: FLUFF!!! but blood and death too

A/N: Based on this post. This is the end… I loved writing this so much, it was such a great challenge. I have an epilogue that will be uploaded before December

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12]

Originally posted by bucky-plums-barnes

You vaguely remembered a man dressed in black tactical gear asking you to keep your eyes on the ground as you and the other hostages walked towards the exit. The white linoleum was covered in blood and you decided that it was safer to focus on your feet.

A gust of cold wind slapped you in the face as soon as you stepped outside. Bright lights blinded you, reporters shouted over the already loud police officers. You couldn’t focus on anything, you just stood there in the biting cold.

Suddenly, you felt an arm around your shoulders. Sam hugged you and Natasha tightly, wrapping his golden survival blanket around the both of you.

It felt so good to be in someone’s arms, you started crying uncontrollably. It had been a really long night and you couldn’t believe that it was finally over.

“They want to take our statements as soon as possible.” Sam pulled away to look at the pair of you. “I’m so glad you’re both okay.”

You wiped the tears away from your eyes, giving him a small smile. “Likewise, Sammy.”

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Kind Eyes, Kind Smiles, Kind Understanding

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

Summary: Credence begins to ask you about magic, and the two of you confront truths together. Part 6/14

Warnings: None!!

Word Count: 1,042

Days passed like this: quiet mornings full of quiet conversation and quiet understanding, followed by reassuring Credence that you wanted him close to you, wanted to touch him, and cared for him deeply, followed by lazy afternoons with scattered kisses and more conversation, and then falling asleep holding his hand.

About a week of this had passed when you woke up to find him—well, not to find him. Credence wasn’t in bed at all. You shot up immediately, shoved your slippers on, and wandered out further into your apartment. You found him sitting in your kitchen, looking at your wand that was now set on the table in front of him. He must have heard you walk in because he asked, “What’s it made of?”

You strolled over and sat in the seat across from him. “Well, the wand itself is made from silver lime, Credence, and inside it is a unicorn hair.” You knew he was curious about magic—especially after his meetings with Mr. Graves—so you were happy to answer any and all questions he had for you; you knew they would be coming sooner or later, though you had tried to avoid using magic around him as much as possible for the time being, hoping to keep things normal and his mind at ease for a little while.

“W-What—What does that all mean?” He looked a little hopeless and lost, so you reached out to grab his hand before answering.

And you were happy to answer; your wand was actually something you were quite proud of. “Well, actually, the silver lime was a really desired wood for a while, and it was really exciting when it chose me, because, you see, wands choose their owners. See, this kind—” You reached out to trace the pointer finger of your free hand down the wand. “—works particularly well for Seers or for those who are skilled in Legilimency, which is what I do. Which is why the unicorn hair paired with it was—well, it was kind of a big deal when it happened. Because unicorn hair makes it particularly hard to turn it to the Dark Arts, which is Dark magic. And it’s a particularly loyal and consistent wand. So I’m pretty proud of it.” You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the wand.

“W—What is L-Legilimency, Y/N?” The word felt foreign and heavy on Credence’s tongue.

This was where you faltered and hoped Credence would not start to mistrust you. “Well, it’s—it’s a kind of magic that allows me to—to be able to navigate and interpret someone’s mind accurately. I’m—I’m particularly gifted in this aspect of magic and can control it very well.”

You saw a guard go up in his eyes as he withdrew his hands from the table. “Have you done that t-to me?” Credence was suddenly very on edge. He couldn’t figure out why, because he really wanted to tell you everything in his head, even when it was hard, because he wanted to learn how to share and how to grow and how to communicate with you, but he wanted to choose. You had let him have a taste of what it was like to choose and to discover, and the thought of losing that, the realization that you could so easily take that from him, dawned on him and smothered him.

You fought the urge to leap forward and plead with him to believe you that of course you hadn’t. Instead, you tried to tell the truth with as even a voice as you could manage. “No, Credence. I can practice it wandlessly, but—I would never do anything to lose your trust. And I really only did it for—for my job. To see when people lie. To extract the truth. But I would never jeopardize losing you, and I love the—the process of getting to know someone, especially when that someone is you. I promise I didn’t look anywhere inside your head. I’ve only listened to what you’ve shared with me, verbally. I promise, Credence. Please, believe me.” You fought the tears gathering in your eyes because you certainly didn’t want to cry or make him think you were manipulating him, but the thought of losing the trust you had gained was scary and hurt you to your core.

Your answer stunned him. Credence had expected a denial, but he had not expected you to be so upset, had not expected you to have tears in your eyes. He was still getting used to the fact that you cared for him at all, never expected anything from him even though he was staying in your home, and to hear you so audibly panicked at the thought of losing him, as if he really had the option to leave and go anywhere else, struck him. He simply nodded and looked you in the eye briefly before reaching a tentative hand across the table and letting you grab it again.

Once the silence didn’t seem so leaden with contemplation, you asked, “Why this morning? Why are you asking about magic this morning?”

His eyes shot to yours briefly before looking back down. “I-I want to—I don’t think I can be okay here. I-I feel like the city is-is swallowing me all the time.” His eyes were filling with tears, so you squeezed his hand encouragingly. “And I want to leave n-now. And I want to learn m-magic so I can h-help you, so I don’t feel so—so useless; I want to be able to p-protect you and to be able to control m-my—my—”

“Your Obscurus,” you whispered as you ducked your head down to meet his eyes.

“Yes.” His voice was softer than air, and you might not have heard him if you hadn’t been listening for him to speak.

“We’ll start planning to leave now, then, okay? You and I will get out of here and go somewhere we can both feel better and more at ease, and you’ll learn, Credence. We’ll get you a wand, and I’ll teach you.” It wasn’t the first time Credence had heard those words, but it was the first time he comfortably believed them.


@7minutes-tomidnight @cayleewinchester @asshfall @rising-ice-phoenix @dcgoddess @aya-fay @weasleywickedwarlock @cremedelabrulee @small-town-wayward-daughter @tomatobuddhachips @corn-noots

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anonymous asked:

touou team trying to win s/o's heart but she's actually in love with momoi please?

I’m not sure if you meant this for each separate character or the whole team but I went with the latter.

Being in Touou was interesting to say the least. There was never a boring day. You glanced at Momoi, begging for help, but all she did was grin and giggle. Thank you, Momoi, thank you.

“P-Please accept this bento I made!” Sakurai stammered out, handing you a box.

You blinked at him curiously and accepted it with a ‘thank you’. The inside was… wow. The detail on the food art was impressive and everything looked so adorable. “Did you make all of this yourself?” He nodded eagerly, for once seeming very proud and happy. “Thank you so much. This is amazing. You’re a really good cook too!”

A tanned hand picked up the lunchbox from your hands and set it aside, after picking out a few pieces from it. Sakurai was about to argue until he saw Aomine standing behind you. “Hey, ___, you look hot today too. I was thinking of getting burgers later, you want some?”


Before you could reply, Imayoshi slid in smoothly next to you, took your hand and kissed the back. Out of all of them, Imayoshi was the smoothest charmer. He’s always the gentleman, always so respectful, but there was a hint of danger to him that added to his sexiness. “Good afternoon, ___. How was your day? I hope my juniors aren’t bothering you.”

“Not at all and my day was fine, Imayoshi-san.”

“Please, there’s no need for honorifics.”

“Captain, please start practice now.” Susa looked exhausted and seemed prepared to kick them all out of the gym. He shot you a sympathetic smile with a slight blush. Despite his calm exterior, he was actually quiet sweet and he’s very considerate of his teammates. “I hope you’re doing well, ____.”

“I am, thank you.”

Wakamatsu entered with a bang. Well, it was actually a kick to Aomine’s head to get him to come to practice. Aomine growled bitterly at his senpai. Though, he turned to you and softened a bit. He cleared his throat, his cheeks tinted slightly pink that you couldn’t help but smile at his surprising timidness, “Hey, ____. How are you doing today?”

Aomine scoffed, “How are you doing? Really? That’s the best you can do?”

“Shut up, Ahomine. Go practice!”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you since we all know who’s the better player?”

“The two of you are bothering ____, why don’t you leave? Susa, think you could start without me? I think I should keep ____ accompanied for a while.”

“Captain, but you have to go too. You’re the captain. And plus, I’m sure I can keep ____ accompanied too.”

“S-Sorry! But I think we should start practice now.”

“Sakurai, can you just practice on your own? Or maybe make some more bentos, I’m pretty hungry.”

“Ahomine, go practice!”

Then it was pure chaos as they argued and bickered and grumbled over each other. The noise was starting to piss you off and finally, you snapped.

You grabbed Momoi’s arm and took her to them. “Oy! Shut up!” You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been dating Momoi for two weeks now so can you all just go practice so I can spend time with her? Great! Thanks.” You huffed then stomped away, dragging Momoi with you.

And that was the day the Touou guys knew that they had lost to Momoi Satsuki.

anonymous asked:

How about some of the bidders reacting to MC wearing a suit? I can see her totally pulling off that outfit. (Then she annoys the crap outta them by dancing and singing 'Suit and tie')

I love this idea! Badass MC’s make me super happy! Here ya go, Anon!

Eisuke: Outdone. “If you’re going to come with me, you need to hurry up and put some clothes on”.

Eisuke shot you a look as he buttoned up his shirt, the buttons flying closed by expert fingers – He does wear a suit every day, after all.

You lay back on the bed, satisfied in so many different ways that you couldn’t even begin to count them if you tried, but it made you smile especially brightly to know that Eisuke now trusted you and respected you enough to let you tag along to one of his meetings with a formidable (although Eisuke says he’s nowhere near his level) business rival.

“Can I not just enjoy the view for a minute longer?” you teased, your hair fanning out around you on the pillow, the ivory, silky material of your nightdress so similar to that of the bed sheets.

You wasn’t referring to the view outside of the large windows; with its orange sun rising up into the centre of the sky, historical buildings and beautiful people as far as the eye could see, and even further.

No. You were referring to the view inside the room – Eisuke Ichinomiya getting dressed.

You watched him throw on his suit jacket, already working on his tie, his brown eyes seemingly attached to you and your lingering gaze.

“This is an important meeting, ___”.

“I’m aware of that,” you reminded him, not breaking eye contact for a second. A slow smile worked its way onto your face, and Eisuke started to approach you, smirking down at you, you who meant so much to him. He could never deny you, not even when he was damn near running late.

“… I think you need to take this more seriously,” he scolded you, seconds before his lips found yours in that same way they always tended to, leaving you breathless and ready all at once, your heart soaring as you clung to the lapels of his suit jacket.

Eisuke didn’t particularly want to stop, but he knew that if he kept on letting you get the better of him, this hotel would be run into the ground by Christmas, so he reluctantly pulled away from you.

He was surprised by your lack of complaint when he told you to go get dressed now, but you made up for it by throwing him a sultry smile as you left the room – an invitation for more later on.

“Wear something pretty,” Eisuke teased, that smug smile in full play. It was all you could do to chuck a cushion in his direction as you made a hasty exit, staying just long enough to see the cushion just miss his face, which wore a fresh, shocked expression.

You cackled as you left.


You emerged from the bedroom some moments later, heels clipping the ground as you casually entered the penthouse lounge, no longer surprised or overwhelmed by the amount of men who were already there.

‘Wear something pretty’ is what Eisuke had said, so you of course had to do just the opposite – in a suit that consisted of a crisp, white unbuttoned shirt, a fitted black suit jacket and long trousers, you were almost fully positive that you were more in the regions of sexy, sophisticated, and effortless.

Your hair was tied back in a loose but business-like bun, and your makeup was subtle but fierce.

Eisuke, for once, was the first one to notice you.

You watched him long enough to see the expression on his face change from complete and utter shock before returning back to that usual calm, controlled and collected look he always had.

The other guys all turned to look at you at once, and they all looked somewhat surprised.

“Kid,” Mamoru said from his corner, almost disbelieving. Soryu folded his arms beside him and looked to Eisuke, as if to see his reaction.

But your fiancé didn’t look particularly bothered.

“I think Boss is playing it cool,” Baba stage whispered, Ota quickly becoming interested and joining in, a wicked smile on his supposedly angelic face.

“Definitely,” he agreed. “Look at his face! He’s trying to hide it”.

“Hide what?” Eisuke asked, mocking boredom, but he was surprised at how easy to read he had been. His faltering gaze kept finding its way back to you in that suit, and he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing that you’d beaten him. “I’m perfectly fine”.

“As always,” Hishikura remarked, but Eisuke did not react. Instead, he just started to make his way over to the door.

“I think he’s feeling a little outdone,” Baba continued, pretending to look concerned as he put a hand over his mouth. Ota laughed from beside him.

Idiots, Eisuke automatically thought, but you were grinning.

“So he should be,” you agreed, and every face in the room became, somehow, more shocked. Your heels sounded as you beat him to the door, leaving the room in a silent uproar. “Come on, darling. If we don’t leave now, we’ll surely be late”. There were a few laughs and a few gasps as Eisuke quickly shut the door behind you, very aware of the warm blush coating his cheeks.

He didn’t like the way you were nearing his height in those heels, or the way you somehow looked more authoritative than he did – it bothered him in so many ways… but you just linked an arm through his, grinning up at him with that smile that had him trapped in moments.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he told you matter-of-factly, and you pretended to be offended.

“That’s rude!” you exclaimed. “You know,”. You leant into him, whispering in his ear. “I think you need to take this more seriously”.

He had no reply to that, and he didn’t even try to hide his surprise as you laughed, mischievous and beautiful at the exact same time.

And Eisuke had to listen to you singing ‘Suit and Tie’ at every available moment for the rest of the morning, trying to get him to join in as you danced about like nobody was watching.

Soryu: Proud. You wore an easy, confident smile as you made your way to the Ice Dragons Headquarters, your slick, sensible ponytail swaying slightly in the light breeze.

Soryu wasn’t expecting you to turn up today, but you had been thinking a lot about how you didn’t just want to be a mobster’s wife – you wanted to make sure that Soryu felt he could rely on you with work, too. So the opportunity neatly presented itself last night before bed when Soryu mentioned that he would be meeting with the leader of a different mob this afternoon.

He’s always so reliable and quick-thinking – those are just a few of the things you love so much about him.

You were near grinning as you lightly pushed open the door to the building, your heels announcing your arrival as they punched the floor repeatedly.

Ryosuke was standing outside of Soryu’s office – the most adorable mobster probably ever – and noticed you the instant you walked in, but he had to do a sort of double take, his eyes becoming wide and his mouth gaping open as he stared at you.


Gosh, did you really look that different?

You were wearing a suit almost identical to Soryu’s; you had on a grey jacket and matching grey trousers that clung to your legs, and a tie in the same colour.

Ryosuke’s reaction surprised you, but you just beamed at him and didn’t stop walking, giving him a jokey wink before entering the office like a breeze, disturbing the conversation enough to make Soryu, and the mob leader, turn around to stare at you.

The mob leader looked pleasantly surprised, and you didn’t falter or react to his tough – almost scary – appearance, since you were used to it by now. You’d fit into Soryu’s life like an easy jigsaw puzzle.

“Who’s this, Soryu?” the mob leader’s loud voice boomed.

Soryu was gazing up at you in some sort of awe, his eyes bright and familiar. You tried to hide your smile as your heart swelled with joy – impressing Soryu Oh is the kind of thing a girl gets excited about.

He stumbled for a moment, but then finally found his words.

“This is-“.

“I’m ___ ___” you introduced yourself, beating him to it and shaking hands with the mob leader in a ladylike and respectful way. You turned back to look at your fiancé, who was almost smiling back at you, as though you had just done the very thing he thought you’d never do but still hoped you would. “Soon to be ___ Oh,” you couldn’t help but say, and the mob leader laughed excitedly.

“Soryu mentioned he had found a woman who pleased him,” he went on to say, and you tried not to cringe too obviously at his words as you sat down beside Soryu, who still seemed unable to take his eyes off of you, but he awakened at the mob leader’s words, becoming slightly defensive.

“No,” he said in that gentle but deep voice of his. “___ does not just please me – she’s an amazing woman”. You hadn’t meant to blush, but it was a little on the embarrassing side. “She’s the reason why the Ice Dragons are doing so well”.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” you mumbled, but Soryu’s big hand found yours under the desk, and his fingers intertwined with yours like wires. He gave your hand a squeeze, and you absently wondered whether he was proud of you as you felt his smile on your face, warm like the sun.

“You seem very capable,” the mob leader commented, but Soryu wasn’t after his approval.

She’s the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met, he thought, realising how true it was suddenly as you tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, making polite conversation.

The thought that you’d gone to all of this effort for him made him want to kiss you right now, but instead he held your hand and hoped that he’d never have to let go.

And for the rest of the meeting, he watched the way your eyes shined whenever you spoke, and wondered how a mobster like him had been lucky enough to stumble across a treasure like you.

Baba: Surprised. “If you laugh, I’ll kill you”.

Baba laughed then, and you rolled your eyes behind the bathroom door, although there was a massive smile on your face even so.

“Why would I laugh?” he wondered out loud, still trying to guess what was so unusual about your shopping trip today that you just had to show him right away. “… It’s not a clown costume, is it?” he suddenly shouted through the door, from his place on the large bed, and you swore you could hear panic in his voice.

You peeked your head around the door for a moment, pausing getting changed to spy his expression.

He sat at the edge of the bed, his hat off now as he relaxed a little into the mattress, fear on his face.

“You’re not into clowns?” you asked dryly, and you could have sworn he was blushing.

“Not particularly, pretty lady”.

“So you wouldn’t respond well to a clown costume rather than a maid’s, or a nurse’s?”. He raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“…‘Respond well’?” he repeated, asking for an explanation as to what you had meant, and you shut the door again to hide the fact that you were blushing, continuing to button up the light grey shirt you had bought.

It had been Sakiko’s idea – the suit. She’d encouraged you to not only try it on, but to also buy it, and you were clearly an easy target for peer pressure, because here you were later on in the day, showing it to Baba to get his opinion.

The guy wears a bright red suit every day, so he’s the one to go to when you’re dealing with a blinding white suit that is guaranteed to turn heads.

“I’m excited now, ___”.

“You should be, Baba,” you matched, zipping up the white trousers that almost had your eyes watering with how bright they were. “This is going to blow you away”.

“I hope so,” he muttered, and you checked yourself over in the mirror once more; you were nowhere near used to wearing suits, so although you had to agree with Sakiko that you looked as intelligent and as sophisticated as you actually were… it was still a whole new game for you to play.

Your hair sat loosely around your shoulders, and your eyes blinked back at you in the mirror as you straightened down the collar, checked the zipper, okay…

“What were the rules?” you shouted to Baba before you left the bathroom, making sure that he had bothered to remember. This would be embarrassing enough as it is without adding Baba and his… well, Babaness to the mix.

You heard him sigh from all the way in the bathroom.

“No laughing,” he recalled. “Or you’ll kill me”.


He thought for a moment.

“No cheesy or inappropriate comments”.


“Define inappropriate,” he said, sounding genuinely serious.

You laughed, starting to open the door.

“Just don’t say anything,” you decided, before finally swinging the door wide open and stepping out a little.

It felt silly the moment you saw Baba’s face; his eyes were wide but also not telling, and he did not move a muscle as he stared at you.

She’s… He struggled to find the words to even think… She really does look amazing in everything.

He didn’t notice your growing concern until you hesitantly asked him for his opinion, and then he made himself smile at you, leaning forward and holding his arms out to you, beckoning you over.

“…I think I’ve struck gold,” came his much-anticipated words, and you playfully smacked his arm.

“What did I say about cheesy comments?”.

“I can’t help it, ___”. He stared into your eyes as your face came closer, your lips nearly touching his own, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than for you to know just how much he loved you. “You’re beautiful”.

Normally, you’d laugh and push him away, telling him off for being such a joker, but his eyes were sincere and serious, and you couldn’t help but swoon a little.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips as he kissed you, sweetly and naturally, like the way the birds sing in the early morning.

Ota: Uninterested. You hummed ‘Suit and Tie’ gently as you pondered over how to wear your hair today, careful not to wake your sleeping boyfriend, who was currently sprawled across the bed like a baby, cute enough with that innocent, vulnerable sleeping face that you let him sleep for a little longer.

A determined expression crossed your face as you thought about the event that would be happening today in the hotel, and how you were to be a member of the small team of people who were hosting it.

It wasn’t necessarily expected of you, but you went out of your way to purchase a smart outfit for today, something that would show everyone that you meant business.

You grinned at your reflection, eyes glowing as Ota began to stir, mumbling and grumbling as he balanced uncertainly between being awake and asleep.

You allowed yourself to wonder vaguely what Ota would think of your outfit – it was something he would surely have never expected you to ever wear – and how triumphant it would feel to be able to surprise him, to show him that there are still sides to you that even he doesn’t know of yet.

“Koro?” he mumbled sleepily, finally entering reality.

You glanced over at him as he groggily sat up in bed, running his hands through his messy hair in a way that meant you were unable to look away.

“Morning!” you replied cheerily, for once ignoring his lack of interest when it comes to using your real name.

He frowned at you, his eyes – which were still opening fully, but bright and burning amber all the same – narrowing as he took you in; you didn’t look at all like yourself, not really. Ota’s eyes were still adjusting to the light, and for a moment there he honestly thought you were a stranger.

You were – for whatever reason – choosing to wear a striped grey waistcoat over a white shirt, with black, fitting trousers and heels that he was sure you could not walk in.

Clearly I’m still dreaming, he thought, meaning it.

You eyed his sceptical look and felt yourself blushing – you were sure you looked good. And you’d just settled on wearing your hair up in a glamorously high ponytail, your makeup smokey and effective.

You thought perhaps he would say something… but Ota just slurred the word ‘Morning’ and turned around, seemingly going back to sleep.

“And stop singing that damned song”.

“… Are you not going to ask me where I’m going?”.

“Where are you going?”. He didn’t sound very interested – just reluctant and bored.

“It’s the event I told you about”. He mumbled some sort of recognition, and you looked at his back, mischief suddenly happening across your thoughts.

Ota heard you walking towards him because of your noisy heels, but he was definitely surprised when you climbed onto the bed, straddling him and forcing him to turn to look at you.

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, both of you stubborn enough not to break the contest.

“…What?” Ota said at last.

“What?” you replied evenly, and his beautiful face relaxed into a happy – almost fond – smile.

With a low chuckle, he reached up a hand to fiddle with your ponytail, those artist’s eyes always watching you as if you were just walking inspiration, which Ota definitely saw you as.

“Does Koro need some attention?” he teased, and his eyes sparkled as he asked the question. A warm blush coated your cheeks as you realised he was right, so you told him to shut up and leaned down to kiss him, your ponytail fanning out over the pillow around him, his arms reaching around to your waist, pulling you closer.

You felt that familiar want inside your tummy… but you had something to do.

But first…

“Tell me I look good,” you teased against his lips, and you felt him grin.

“What do I get out of it?” he whispered, kissing you again.

You pulled away from him, trying to hide your smile, trying to look serious as you said “The satisfaction of knowing that you’re being honest”.

Ota seemed to roll his eyes or something similar, but then he sighed and kissed you again, gentler this time, as if he was working with a rare gem.

“…You look great,” he realised, staring into those deep eyes of yours and feeling so much love in his heart that it almost hurt. “Beautiful, in fact”.

That was all you needed to hear.

“Good boy,” you joked, ruffling his hair as you removed yourself from your boyfriend, telling him that you’d see him later as you left the room, singing again to tease him.

Ota was still trying to understand what had just happened.

Luke: Upset. If Luke was going to invite you along to another one of those weird parties for back alley doctors, you were going to go prepared this time – a sensible, feminine suit would be the perfect option; it meant that you would look exceptionally intelligent and beautiful, but not in a way that would have creepy men staring at your body.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine as you walked into the familiar penthouse lounge, after an entire hour of battling with your unusual choice of outfit, trying to make it look good.

The only man who was allowed to stare at your body was located on the sofa, alone, sipping calmly on a cup of tea, his eyes trained on those medical journals. Every so often, he would murmur something to himself, that strong voice filling the room.

You smiled.

“Hi, Luke”.

Turning lovely blue eyes towards you as he recognised your arrival, Luke suddenly lost all of the colour from his face, his polite smile receding into a careful ‘o’ shape as he gasped dramatically.

What is she wearing?! He panicked inwardly.

“Sexy Bones?!”. He sounded so sad that you wondered whether you were still dreaming – Luke was… eccentric, shall we say?

But even so, this reaction was a little…

“What have you done?!”. He was up in a flash, towering over you as he stood just inches away, medical journals dashed aside as he stared into the depths of your eyes, as if he had lost something in them that he couldn’t find. “What’s happened to your sexy bones, Sexy Bones?”.

He hadn’t calmed down, and you were starting to wonder if wearing this suit was worth Luke having a heart attack or not.

In a sleek back pencil skirt, black fitted jacket and white blouse, you looked stunning still… But Luke’s appreciation for what you wore was often limited by whether or not your collarbones were on show.

What he enjoyed so much about them, no one would ever know for sure.

“I’m wearing this because of the party,” you explained, but he just looked at you as if he really didn’t understand. “… I don’t want anyone looking at me”.

“But it’s such a waste of beauty, Sexy!” he almost shouted, pleading with you by now. He trailed off. “It’s such a waste”.

“Luke,” you soothed as he started to pace back and forth, muttering and mumbling stuff under his breath as if this had seriously distressed him. “Luke, darling,” you tried, touching a hand to his shoulder, making him halt. “They’re still there,” you reasoned, turning him round so that you could better see those stormy blue eyes of his. They looked back at you, and you could see that he was calming down a little, but then they fell to your covered collarbones and he sighed, moving back and slumping down onto the sofa.

“What am I going to do now?” he asked desperately.

You sighed, a fond smile playing about your lips as you wandered over to stand behind him at the sofa, resting your forehead against his – he was almost cute when he got like this, like a small child being told that he can’t go out to play today.

“You know,” you whispered, your eyelashes tickling his face. “…I’m not just collarbones, Luke Foster”.

He looked up into your eyes and saw the woman he loved, right there before him, undoubtedly his.

“I know that,” he agreed, because he did. He loved you regardless of what you wore… but it still upset him to see such exquisite bone structure go on unseen as it was now. “But-“.

“Shh”. To put it simply, you shut him up with a kiss, leaning forward until your lips touched his, an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He responded eagerly, but you broke away after a moment, knowing that if you continued – taking into account Luke’s general lack of regard for timekeeping – you would be late and he wouldn’t be able to find what he needed to at this party.

“Sexy,” he complained, but you were not listening – you were already making for the door.

“Come on,” you urged him, and he reluctantly stood up, frowning as he came to join you.

“I still think you should change”.

“And I still think you should get over it,” you teased, smirking at him.

In the End I'd Do It All Again

A/N: I haven’t written anything in quite a while and this is my first phanfic altogether so I’m a bit nervous about uploading this. But I hope you all like it.

Title: In the End I’d Do It All Again

Genre: School AU I Angst 

Warnings: Alcohol

Description: “Lester, you’re with Howell.” With these words their English teacher assigns Dan and Phil to be partners for a project. The two boys have never spoken before but they quickly discover that they have quite a lot in common. Phil just hopes he won’t screw it up.

Author: phancywork

Betas: phangirlingforphan, deadbeforeithappens

Word Count: 7000

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Jimin x Reader

Originally posted by the-rap-man

Decided to write a little angsty/fluffy Jimin x Reader since my Jimin feels were strong today.

Prompt: Jimin’s abs were a constant discussion, and you knew this. He had begun to let them (the abs) go as a New Year’s Resolution, but the news is quick to jump on it, causing you to come home and find him crying.

Enjoy ♥ !

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in character

characters: hori, kashima, sakura, nozaki
pairings: hori/kashima
summary: the problem is that hori can’t figure out what the problem is

For the most part, students of the school drama club can handle their productions on their own. It’s something Hori is proud of — how smoothly he runs the operation and how well he can reign in Kashima like no other when the situation demands it. Their faculty advisor had been able to put up with only one day of chasing their spontaneous lead around the school campus, begging her to return to practice, before promptly handing the gig off to the club president.

But every once in a while their energy is interrupted by an outsider who means well, and while Hori will always politely agree to “think the suggestion over” and then instantly forget the conversation ever happened, he can’t very well ignore an idea by the advisor.

“Here’s a nifty idea,” he muses, stroking his chin in thought. “Since our prince is Kashima, what do you say we switch up the other lead as well — give the role of the princess to a boy?”

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windchaserlen  asked:

As requested :) -If you ever have time for another prompt- one where cat and Kara have lunch and their waitress/restaurant owner used to date Kara. Cue jealous cat :P

Still filling old prompts while my WIPs simmer happily on the back burner.

Green-Eyed Monster

The restaurant was surprisingly quiet for Friday lunchtime, but the weather was ideal for an afternoon at the beach or a hike in the hills, so perhaps the working world had begun their weekends early.

Cat and Kara sat on the patio, Cat picking at a kale salad, Kara polishing off a divine mushroom risotto as she tapped away at her tablet.

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Jonghyun/Taemin; A Castle-Oriented Story (Part 3/5)

“Hey,” Jonghyun says quietly, just barely breaking the comfortable silence that had been stretched between the two of them all afternoon. Taemin cracks open a lazy eye and hums to show that he’s listening. “Do you love me?”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

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