bob knee

Bygones of the Sun | 02 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 5.0k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02 | 03

Keep reading

We Are Young: Chapter 8

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter


“Stop.” Aelin’s hand shot out, landing on Lysandra bobbing knee. “It’s going to be fine. It’s just an ultrasound.”

Lysandra let loose a shaky breath, her knee bouncing again the moment Aelin removed her hand.

“I know,” She said, glancing nervously around the room. “But, this feels more real now, you know? Before, the only proof I had was some stick I peed on. Once a professional confirms it…”

“Everything is going to be fine.” Aelin took Lysandra’s hand, giving it a light squeeze as a smile pulled on her lips. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lysandra could only offer Aelin a small smile in return. She hated to admit it, but she was slowly letting her nerves get the best of her. She liked to think of herself as a pretty strong person, but sitting in this waiting room, she couldn’t help the fear and jitteriness that overcame her.

It didn’t take long for a nurse to walk out and call her name. With Aelin holding her hand, the two followed the nurse down the hall and into a room.

Honestly, Lysandra was so lost in her nervousness at that point, everything became a blur. And before she knew it, she was lying on the examination table, Aelin standing next to her. She tried to calm her racing heart as the doctor squirted the cold jelly on her stomach, moving the ultrasound to get a clear picture of the baby.

“Here we go,” the doctor smiled, using a finger to point out the baby on the screen. There wasn’t really much to see at this point, but what she could see caused Lysandra’s heart to skip a beat.

That was her baby.

Keep reading


Catfish and the Bottlemen backstage at Shaky Knees


Thankyou guys so friggin much for all the positive feedback and support on my Jughead Serpent Au, you guys make me so happy to write these stories!

He was practically floating on air, the goofy smile that seemed a permanent fixture on his face today was driving his friends crazy, and that only spurred him on, what fun was a secret if you didn’t use it to mess with people?

“Come on man, what’s with the stupid face? You haven’t stopped grinning since you drove up this morning. I didn’t think you even knew how to smile?” Dean teased, elbowing Jughead in the side and impatiently waiting for an explanation.

“What? A guy can’t be happy around here. Maybe I really like what’s on the lunch menu today.” He shrugged lazily, pulling a long drag out of the cigarette hanging from his mouth, a few of the Serpents stood outside Southside high while Jughead leaned against his motorcycle, the extra wide smile still playing on his lips.

“You eat everything, you don’t care what’s on the menu” Keith rolled his eyes, shrugging his jacket off and taking in the late fall, early summer sun “this wouldn’t have anything to do with our very own ball of sunshine, little miss Betty Cooper, would it?” He smirked knowingly.

There were hushed laughs and immature “ooooohhhsss”

Jughead popped the collar of his jacket, rolling his eyes
“And if it is? I can’t help the fact that someone like her wants to be with me, she’s.. special” He smiled proudly.

A few of the boys began cracking up and some of them made obnoxious fake throw up noises.

“Yeah whatever, find a girl like mine and you’ll Change your mind real fast” he threw his hands at them, putting his cigarette out.

“You’re dad will be happy.” Keith said knowingly, his eyes sympathetic.

Dean looked worriedly at Jughead, for a boy his size, he was most definitely all bite no bark

“You ain’t just with her because of what your dad said right? About us getting in Riverdales head? Because Betty’s real nice and I don’t want to see her get hurt.” He said slowly, warning evident in his voice.

“You don’t have to worry about that, what me and Betty have is real. My dad has nothing to do with the way we feel about each other, if it gets him off my back for a while, so be it. But im not letting him anywhere near this relationship. I’m not letting anyone near this relationship.” He cast his eyes too a group of particular nasty Serpents in the corner who were eyeing Jughead with an unfamiliar look.

“Figured we’d stop by Pops again after school, as corny as that place is, the burgers are some of the best.” A lanky Serpent named Jacob said,a few of the other boys voicing there agreement.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jughead nodded Cooly, pulling his phone out and sending a text to his favorite girl

JUGHEAD: wanna grab a milkshake after school? On me ;)

He bobbed his knee anxiously waiting for the text, quickly opening his phone as it lit up.

BETTY: wouldn’t you much rather it be on me? ;)

He nearly choked on his own breath after reading the message, his eyes going wide, another message popped up and he eagerly opened it.

BETTY: I have no idea where that came from. What are you doing to me Jughead Jones? ;) a milkshake sounds amazing, bring your friends I’ll bring mine. Can’t wait to see you. Miss you.

He clutched the phone in his hand, his heart instantly feeling lighter, she had such a damn effect on him, it scared him sometimes, but the excitement overshadowed the fear and he found himself anticipating seeing her face.

The day went by quickly and before Jughead knew it he was pulling into Pop Tate’s Parking lot, the rumble of motorcycles following him as his gang parked their bikes, heading for the door in a rowdy bundle. Jughead stood beside Keith and Dean, his eyes scanning from the doorway, softening when he spotted Betty standing beside a booth on her tiptoes, looking around for Jughead, when she caught his eyes, she grinned leaning down and whispering something in Veronica’s ear, the dark haired girl turning towards him and rolled her eyes playfully.

The three boys made their way over and stood before the booth awkwardly, Archie moved over from his seat, and dean dropped beside him, shaking the entire table with his mass.

“Woah there big boy!” Veronica laughed, her hands coming out to steady herself as Archie clapped him on the shoulder
“We sure could use you on the football team!” He laughed as Dean grinned shyly.

Betty slid into the booth, Jughead sliding directly beside her, his arm instantly coming to rest on her shoulders. Betty looked up at him with light eyes
“Hi” she whispered.

Jughead brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and smiled “hi”

The conversation was light and fun, Archie and Jughead realizing how much they had in common and Keith and Veronica discussing fashion, a secret passion of Keith’s. Kevin had pretty much fallen in love and Dean was just happy to eat and listen to the stories, occasionally setting both the girls into fits of giggles at his barking laugh.

An hour later, the perfect bubble they had been in burst with a very audible pop.

“Elizabeth Cooper! What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” The shrill voice of a middle aged women, followed by a man who looked exceptionally like Betty rang through the tiny diner.

Betty stiffened in Jughead arms, her whole body shaking slightly as she stood almost robotically.

“Mom. Dad” she whispered, taking shaky steps out of the booth

“What are you doing here?! Don’t you know you have tutoring? And Latin class? And what’s this I hear about you ending Cheerleading practice early? What’s the matter with you?!” She screamed in her daughters face.

Betty shook her head
“It’s Friday, I was just..” she was cut off by the older man clutching her wrist

“Don’t talk to your mother like that, keep your mouth shut, let’s go.” He tugged Betty towards the door, the blonde losing her footing and tripping slightly, her eyes downcast as she winced.

Jughead was out of the booth in seconds flat, his eyes lethal as Archie followed closely behind, Jughead gripped Betty’s fathers hand that was wrapped around Betty’s wrist

“Let her go.” He growled as Hal Cooper, stared shocked at his hand

“You don’t know who you’re messing with boy” he hissed as Alice waved her hands frantically.

“You’ve been hanging around these people. Their kind ” she spat, her eyes narrowing on Jughead as he shook his head still glaring at Hal, he opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off when Betty stepped forward.

“Don’t talk about them like that. They have more class in one finger than you do in your entire body.” She said dangerously, standing toe to toe with her shocked mother.

“You don’t know anything about them.” Betty spoke

Alice shook her head
“I know enough. I know enough to know these people are nothing but trash, nothing but thugs, nothing but..” suddenly a glass soared past the older woman’s head, smashing against the wall behind her head, sending glass flying as Betty stood in front of her, her hands shaking

“You need to leave.” She hissed , her eyes dark as the entire diner went dead silent, to make matters worse Chuck and his football players stormed in through the front doors, noticing the motorcycles in the front they had come for a fight. Noting the tension, they stopped abruptly and watched.

“Elizabeth, we’ll discuss this at home.” Alice Cooper said her voice shaky, as she touched a hand to her chest.

“No.” she said finally, testing the word out on her lips “no I’m not going with you.” She finished finally.

Hal laughed bitterly
“Where will you go? Who’s gonna want you? Now that you’re some Serpent Slut?” The man smiled wickedly.

Betty looked down at her hands helplessly and Jughead stepped forward, coming up to grip her now bruised wrist.

“She’ll stay with me.” He said, tugging her towards the door, his arm coming around to wrap around her protectively as he ushered her towards the door, shoving past Chuck and his friends as they shouted, an all out screaming war broke out.
Chuck reached for Betty’s hand

“Think about what you’re doing Betty, think about your decisions.” He said dangerously, threatening her.

Jughead pushed her softly ahead of him and turned to chuck, slamming him against the wall
“You touch her, you look at her, you even breathe in her presence, I will kill you. I swear to god, I’ll make you wish you were never born.” The boy fell against the wall as Jughead released him.

Jughead turned back to see Veronica and Archie and Kevin slipping out the back with Dean and Keith right beside him. The dark haired boy jumped on his bike, reaching a hand out for Betty, who looked at him nervously.

“Do you trust me?” He shouted over the noise.

With one final glance back at the chaos behind her, Betty gripped his hand and climbed onto the back of the bike, her hands wrapping securely around her waist.

“You ready angel?” He said when she dropped her chin to his neck.

She pressed her nose to his pulse point and nodded

“Take me away Romeo.”

Dead Mall AU

I’m having real difficulty convincing myself to write this week, but here’s an excerpt of a very stupid AU I’m working on, where Kylo is a pretentious art student making a multi-media piece about The Death of the American Mall and Hux is a guy who works at a pretzel stand in an otherwise-empty food court (and we’re all trying to solve the mystery of how the fuck he got there).

Kylo chewed another piece of pretzel and looked around the food court. The sun came out and haloed Armitage’s head, causing his hair to glow, translucent; then it swiftly passed behind a cloud again, leaving his orange majesty dimmed.

“Are you seriously not going to let me film you?”

“I’m seriously not. Would you, if you were wearing this outfit?” Armitage reached across the table and picked up Kylo’s camcorder, fitting his hand through the strap. “God, this thing weighs a tonne.”

“Hey! Put it down - that cost me a fortune on Ebay.”

Ignoring the command, Armitage turned the device from side to side, scrutinizing it with a wry, wondering expression. “I mean, congratulations on your commitment to the aesthetic, I suppose, but does anyone even own a VHS player these days?”

“I do!” Kylo insisted, although technically it was his dad’s. However, Han would probably never notice that one piece of junk had gone missing from the back of his overloaded van. Armitage held the camera up and looked through the viewfinder. “Put it down,” Kylo told him, only to see the red recording light turn on.

“You might be able to use this. The filmmaker filmed – that’s postmodern, isn’t it?”

Kylo turned his face away, holding out his hand. “I hate being on camera.”

“See, we’re getting somewhere already. You’re performing the role of the reluctant celebrity.”

“Man, you’re a jackass. I’m sorry I ever let you out of your pretzel box.”

Armitage snorted at this. “So tell me about this project, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo peeked out from between his fingers. “Why, so you can make fun of it?”

“I’ll only make fun of it if it’s stupid and ill-conceived. Is it stupid?”

“No!” Kylo frowned at him and tore off another strip of sugared dough. “Look, It’s an evolving concept, ok?”

“Let me guess: it’s all about the hollowness of capitalism and the death of the American Dream.”

“Fuck off, man.”

“You fuck off – I work here.”

“It’s like…” Kylo sat back, looking around himself and bobbing one knee. “I thought this would be fun, setting out. Kitschy and ironic, you know? But it’s actually just really sad. This place is beautiful in its own way. It’s this space that’s meant to be occupied, meant to be busy, and now it’s just… barren.”

“Interesting. You feel emotionally invested in a bunch of empty shops. Why do you think that is, Kylo?”

Kylo raised his middle finger.

“I’m serious,” Armitage insisted. “Malls are a very American thing, you know – we don’t really have them back home in the Old World. We have shopping centers, of course, but it’s not quite the same thing. Some shopping centers call themselves ‘such-and-such mall’, but it’s an affectation. A copy of something that wasn’t real to begin with.”

Kylo made finger quotes. “Simulacrum.”

“Ye-es, exactly. And you look like you were born in the 80s - just about. The American mall is in your blood.”

“And you think I’m pretentious?” Kylo pressed a thumb to his own chest.

“I’m entering into the spirit of the piece.”

A Date with Darkiplier (pt. 5)

(Things are about to start heating up…)

Amy takes a deep breath and smooths her hands over the silky fabric of her outfit. Wilford, bless him, knows the power that a little black dress has against anyone, even Darkiplier.

Amy and Red stand at the end of a long hallway just outside the elevators. It’s like something out of a horror movie—a long, dark hallway with a flickering light just to add extra creepiness, and Amy rolls her eyes because Dark definitely made it this way on purpose.

They pass several black doors on their way down the hall, but Amy knows that she’s destined for Dark’s office, the door at the very end. Red steps ahead of her, knocks on the door in question, and opens it for her, ever the gentleman. Amy steps inside and instantly feels the temperature drop several degrees.

Goosebumps rise on her skin as she surveys the minimalist decor of Dark’s office. Everything inside is a variation of black or gray, sleek and modern, leather and metal. A gleaming grand piano sits in one corner, and in the middle, a table is set up with two chairs, two place settings, and a vase with a single white rose. Red pulls out the chair closest to the door and motions for Amy to take a seat.

“Darkiplier will be joining you shortly,” he mutters and goes to stand guard at the door behind Amy. As she waits, her knee bobs beneath the table uncontrollably. A plan, she needs a plan, but what plan will work against such a skilled manipulator?

The door opens behind her, and Amy doesn’t even turn to look as Dark strides inside and takes his seat across from her. A moment of silence passes as the two of them stare each other down before Dark sets his hands palms-down on the table, and Amy nearly wretches because there’s blood on them. Stay in control, Amy, she tells herself. He’s trying to break you.

Amy cracks a shaky smile. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

Dark’s eyes glitter in a way that somehow makes them seem even darker than usual. Those same eyes wander from the top of her head all the way down to where she disappears behind the table, and he smirks. “You’re actually somewhat aesthetically appealing when you’re scared.” He delivers it like a compliment, but Amy has to stop herself from running for the door.

Dark motions to someone behind Amy, and Google, dressed in a waiter’s suit, steps over with a covered silver platter in each hand. Amy tries to catch Google’s eyes to gauge what the droid is thinking, but Google effectively avoids her gaze as he sets the dishes before them.

Dark reaches up and traces a finger down one of Google’s arms. “Thank you, Google. Amy, don’t you think he looks nice as a waiter?” Amy bites the inside of her cheek and nods slowly.

Google backs away from the table stiffly and bows at the hip. “Dinner is served.”

“You’re excused, Google,” Dark sighs, waving the droid away. He turns back to his “date” and gestures to the food—sushi, Amy’s favorite. “Before you arrived, I had a little talk with the Host. He told me many, many things about you, and he eventually informed me that this is your preferred meal.” Dark smiles and picks up his pair of black chopsticks before pausing for Amy’s reaction.

Amy looks down at the table, takes a deep breath, and picks up a piece of sushi between her own chopsticks with smile. “Yes, thank you.”

Something in Dark’s face twitches. This isn’t the reaction he wants. He wants her to cry, and scream, and demand for him to release her and Mark. It only makes Amy’s smile grow. You want a date, she thinks, I’ll give you a date. Amy eats the sushi, and—it really is good—gives a satisfied sigh. “This is amazing!”

Dark’s shell jitters and cracks, but he holds himself together, joining her in trying the sushi. Amy watches as his face shifts, and he switches gears. Dark reaches across the table and takes Amy’s free hand. The blood smudges onto her fingers, and Amy’s smile falls. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, Amy. All I wanted was to show you that I can provide for you, so much better than he ever could.”

Amy wants to pull back, wants to reach in her purse, and sink the knife into his hand, but she steadies herself. Dark traces circles on her hand with his thumb, taking another bite of sushi and holding it out for her. “Here, allow me.”

A breath catches in Amy’s throat, and every fiber of her being is screaming for her to run. She forces herself to lean forward and…

The door bursts open behind her, and Amy jumps back, pulling her hand away from Dark. Dr. Iplier stands in the door, breathing heavily and looking disheveled. His blazing brown eyes flick from Dark to Amy and back again. “H-he’s alive. Just like you wanted, b-but we’re having trouble restraining him, sir.”

Mark, Amy thinks, he’s talking about Mark!

Dark smiles and adjusts his jaw. “Thank you, Dr. Iplier. You may go now.” Amy watches as the gray aura swarms around the Doctor like a cloud of wasps, but his eyes shift to her once more.

He snaps, “I’m sorry, Amy. I didn’t want to do it! But I couldn’t control myself!” Red moves to force Dr. Iplier from the room, but the Doctor isn’t leaving without a fight. “I’ll keep him alive for you, Amy! I swear! I swear that I won’t let him die!”

Red finally forces the Doctor out and follows after him, slamming the door as he goes. Amy, her entire body shaking in shock, turns slowly back to a triumphant-looking Darkiplier. He licks his lips and leans forward across the table. “Now, where were we?”

To be continued…

anonymous asked:

Pitch prompt: first game against the cardinals after the brawl and pictures being released (knowing that they were from Trevor's phone) and tensions are very high

He finds her sitting in her chair, her weight balancing on her toes, her knee bobbing up and down.  The fingernail of her thumb is being mangled by the teeth she’s sinking into her callused skin, as she moves her head down, grasping for the bill of her hat, squeezing it, as if containing the frustration.

Mike sneaks in, softly shutting the door, but it’s only after the click that she looks up, eyes darting around to see who had snuck up on her.  She settles when warm brown eyes land on him, a silent sigh of relief fluttering out, and she goes back to staring at her feet.

“You okay?” He asks, knowing full well that the woman sitting before him is anything but.

She gives a half shrug, but she knows he’s not buying it.

He pulls up the chair next to her until their knees are almost touching.

“You know, I uhhh, tried to call you last night,” he starts, and she looks up at him, fighting back a a grin, and he leans back in his seat, moving to scratch his face underneath the beard.

“Yeah, sorry, I was with Evelyn,” she sheepishly gives an excuse, pulling at her hat to cover the blush, but her dimples give her away.

He nods, knowing that with today’s game, she probably had needed some girl time to sort through some things.  It was the first game against the Cardinals since the pictures had been released.  The thought curling his hand into a fist, his nails digging into the meaty flesh of his palm.  The desire to knock the guy’s teeth in for what had happened, a very real threat that he having to rein in the closer they got to seeing him.

Letting out a breath he looks up to find her worrying her lip, her knee still bobbing up and down at lightening speed, as if unbeknownst to her - an involuntary tick that’s harnessing all her pent up anxiety.

He reaches out, steadying the flailing limb with a comforting hand, catching her attention.

“I could lose all control of my bat, a simple slip of the hand and it just happens to fly back and hit him,” he tries to tease, but he doesn’t even crack a smile, she just shakes her head at him.

When he’d found out that Trevor was the guy.  He didn’t know what was stronger, the urge to hit him or the jealousy that had surged through him that this was the man, the ballplayer, who had gotten to date Ginny.

They had carefully weaved themselves into a friendship that had them spending most nights together, ending with her either curled around him on his couch or her voice the last thing he heard as he passed out with his phone pressed up against his ear.  He knew how she took her coffee (with more cream that necessary, if you asked him), what position she slept in (on her side with her hands tucked underneath her head), the exact smile that indicated to him that he’d done something right, and the covering of her mouth when he’d made her laugh until her sides hurt.

But what he didn’t know, in that moment, was what to say.  His offer to hurt him falling on deaf ears.

“What do you need from me?” He asks, knowing her well enough to know that asking her what she needs is better than offering something she doesn’t want.

She looks at him, studying him, and he becomes nervous under her gaze.  His thumb moving over her kneecap, dipping into the grooves, tracing the edges of her bone.

“I just…,” she tries.

“Hate him?” He offers, because he certainly wouldn’t blame her if she did.

But she shakes her head again at him.

“He was the exception,” she says, this time firm, confident, staring him right in the eye, as if wanting to make sure that he understood what she was saying.  

Mike nods, that flare of jealousy sparking in him again.

“Evelyn says you only get one exception to the rule,” she reasons, with a slight shrug of her shoulders that has Mike removing his hand from her knee, leaning back with a scoot of his chair.

She grabs onto the arms of his chair, pulling herself into him, both her knees resting in between his wide spread legs, causing his eyes to go big.

“Is that so?” He asks, crossing his arms in front of her.  But she reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Yeah.  But see, I don’t need anymore exceptions if I don’t have the rule,” she says with a grin, as if she’d found a way to beat the system.

He leans in forward, with only enough space between them as their caps will allow, his minty breath causing a chill to run up her spine, tingling in the hand that’s got a hold of him.

“No more rule?” He breathes a silent plea against her.

“Nope,” she says with a pop.

“So what does that make me?” His lips twitch underneath his beard, and her eyes move to catch the grin.

“My poster boy?” She offers, and he can’t help the snigger that comes out of his mouth, catching her dimples in sight.

The knock at the door has them scrambling against the wheels of their chairs to separate.

“You guys plan on playing today?” Blips asks.

They mumble their responses, moving to get up.

“You ready?” Mike says with a hand coming to her shoulder and squeezing gently.

“Oh, I can’t wait to send them packing,” she assures them both.

“No exceptions?” Blips asks, a knowing look crossing his face.

She glances over at Mike, a warm smile bookended by radiant dimples spread across her face. 

“No exceptions.”

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask box and I will write the next five sentences.

nerves (lin-manuel miranda x reader)

request : anonymous: an “i’m a makeup artist and you’re an actor and i’ve seen my fair share of nervous actors but your leg has been bouncing up and down for the past twenty minutes and you keep saying that you can’t do this over and over and i’m about to slam my face onto a desk” AU

summary : ur a makeup artist and lin is a nervous smol

warnings : cussing,, slight smut

a/n : thank u all for the request i need this !!

you almost squealed when you saw your list. you would be doing lin manuels makeup. this was. wow. you were just another extra, obivulsy, but that didnt mean you couldn’t have interest. and lin manuel miranda was more then just an interest, if you get my drift. you decided to put effort into your clothes for once, pairing a nice pastel purple skirt and an alien crop top. although it didnt really matter, since you were going to be wearing an apron over it anyways. 

“ok babe listen up” your best friend said, holding your shoulders, “no screaming, no flailing, no asking for an autograph on any obscure body parts, no fainting, no picture taking without his consent, and most importantly, no flirting” she demanded. 



“just a little flirting”

“no.” you huffed. she was being unfair. but in all honesty she was probably right. you brushed down your hair, as you waited with the rest of the crew for the cast to come. 

lin was nervous. visibly nervous. his knee kept bobbing up and down and up and down and his hands kept drumming into the wooden makeup table. you knew he was nervous, everyone was before a public performance, but damn was he on edge. his face red, his lip bitten raw. 

“stage fright?” you chuckled at the irony. he looked up suddenly. 

“huh-what? oh, no, uh definitely not i can’t have stage fright I’m an actor just-”

“oh hush. everyone has stage fright. i get stage fright seeing my name on the credit screen of a movie. its not stage fright, its, as i like to call it, pre-stage fright. you’re so nervous but once you get up there- believe me, you’ll do amazing. now stop biting your lips, its one of your best attributes.” you laughed.  lin blushed at your words, then regained his usual composure.

“so you’ve been staring at my lips then, huh?” he smirked. 

“don’t try to flirt with me when nearly three seconds ago your were about to go into cardiac arrest” you noted, pulling out the straightener to do lin’s hair. 

“thats very unnaccurate. i was just…” he searched for the words. 

“nervous?” you supplied. he nodded. 

“yes. nervous. whats your name anyways? you never did introduce yourself.”

“oh! I’m sorry, I’m y/n. i guess i was kinda nervous meeting the writer of some of my favorite musicals ever.” 

“you listen to hamilton?” lin asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“more than id like to willingly admit.” 

“im honored that someone so beautiful listens to my creations.”

“stop flirting with a girl who’ll never have a chance with you and maybe you’ll meet someone who does.” you tell him. “word of advice” you add. he laughed.

“who said you don’t have a chance with me?” and with that you two were silent. lin’s nervousness attacked him again. your conversation had managed to keep it at bay. 

“hey man, calm down for a second. you’re gonna do great. even if you fuck up somehow, i know my boy jimmy, hell make it work. don’t worry about it ok? just breathe” you put your hands on his shoulders and look into his eyes. 

“ok ok ok.” was all he could muster in response. he was staring at your eyes. you were breathtaking. how did he get the most beautiful person to help him through this? he took a deep breath and smiled. 

“thank you.”

“no problem. now go out there and break a thousand legs” you laughed. 

anonymous asked:

So who had the worse baby fever with baby Pharah? Gabe? If so how about #9 Reaper vs Pharah with Satya for more drama?

Me, reading this prompt: I can’t believe Pharah’s going to snap Reaper over her knee like kindling.

Oh hey! This can count for my “Symmetra joins the team” ficlet! Sweet!

Lúcio’s knee was bouncing up and down as he and Pharah sat across from each other in the Orca.

“Nervous?” said Pharah, folding her arms.

Lúcio took off one ear of his headphones. “What?” his knee stopped bobbing. 

Pharah smirked. “Never mind,” she said.

 Lúcio glanced out the window of the Orca and shuddered a little at the gleaming white city below.

“You are nervous,” said Pharah, leaning forward.

“Eh, this place just always creeped me out when I had concerts here,” said Lúcio, “I mean any place called ‘Utopaea’ has got to have some messed-up stuff under the surface.” He glanced back out the window, “I mean even from here it’s like…It’s too clean. It’s too bright.” 

“Well most of it is hard-light constructs,” said Pharah.

“So who are we supposed to be picking up again?” D.Va piped up, glancing up from the game she was playing using her MEKA’s projection screen.

“Satya Vaswani,” said Pharah, picking up a tablet and scrolling through it, “And we aren’t really picking her up, just making sure she has some security on her flight to Oasis.”

“Wait–Vaswani?” said Lúcio leaning forward.

Pharah turned the tablet around to show Lúcio the photo of her.

“Symmetra,” said Lúcio, his brow furrowing.

“Sym–what?” said Pharah.

“That’s like, her supervillain name,” said Lúcio glancing up from the tablet.

“Her what?” Pharah sat back in her seat, “Lúcio–She’s an architech.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you think that Peter has ADHD? Cuze I do.

I totally headcanon this, and I try to portray it in all my fics even though it is never outrightly stated in them. 

  • I figure that Peter was never diagnosed with it because if it doesn’t affect your grades than adults don’t seem to care whether it is diagnosed or not, but I feel Peter is the type of person to research it and be like ‘yeah I have this.’ 
  • So I imagine this is part of the reason that he stutters and trips over his words. We know he is super smart and so I think that coupled with the hyperness that is ADHD his brain is just going too fast for his mouth to keep up with. 
  • In my fics I always show him moving, whether he is tapping a beat on his knee or bobbing his head, I think that this is one of the ways he gets out his energy and need to multitask at all times (even if Peter doesn’t really think about it pertaining to his ADHD) but I am sure other people notice it and figure out why he is always moving. 
  • I picture Peter needing to stim at times, in order to get his brain to slow down and for him to think things through more logically. (And I think that the fact that he is constantly allowed to move as Spider-Man might be part of the reason that he doesn’t stutter while in the mask) 
  • Honestly, I always picture Peter stimming in some way (much like myself) in the lab I can see him throwing things around and in the end getting in trouble, and I picture him listening to repetitive music while studying and in the end rocking and bobbing around in his chair like a made man, before needing to burn off energy on Patrol. 
  • I’m not sure how much Peter would acknowledge it though. I don’t think he would blame his ADHD for some of the things it causes. Most people just look at it as being hyper and nothing else. And I think that might be the extent of Peter’s knowledge on the subject. 
  • So when it comes to his trouble remembering certain things he doesn’t find interesting, or having trouble paying attention, or getting distracted, or his brain floating off and him thinking about other things when he shouldn’t be, I don’t think Peter would make the connection that that was related to the ADHD. I think he would just blame himself for that sort of thing. (Like a lot of people do)
  • I think that it probably got worse once he hit puberty, and no one (other than Aunt May and closer friends) paid it much mind because his school work was staying pretty consistent. 
  • And I feel that for a while there, it was really hard on Peter, he was flying through most his school work, while some subjects (like English) he couldn’t seem to pay attention, and he didn’t know why. And that left him bored in some classes and lost in others. 
  • And for a time there, even his speech was getting a bit worse (which usually only happened when he was under a lot of stress) and it took a while for the teenager to figure out what helped him. 
  • Becoming Spider-Man helped, being able to burn off that energy and work through things while web-slinging (a repetitive and smooth motion) became something that helped his mind slow down. 
  • And he figured out a routine, doing certain things at certain times and giving himself breaks or jumping from subject to subject. And in class, if he was allowed to tap his foot (or sneak in his headphones and listen to music) that helped as well, it seemed like his mind needed more than one thing to focus on.
  • And hey, once he graduates and gets his own lab and space to work, he can come up with his own system and way of doing things, he can pound music as loudly as he pleases, or work on the ceiling, whatever he wants. 
Blame- Bucky Barnes- Part 14

So sorry it has been so long! But I am finally finished with school work for now, so here is a new part! Thanks for your patience! Unfortunately, we are nearing the end of this series!














Originally posted by bovaria

It had been a month since Bucky went back under. A month since you started to try and find a solution- but nothing. You and T’Challa’s therapists tried to find something, anything that would help from certain kinds of therapies, even looking into brain surgery but nothing would suffice. It had been a month since you had slept properly.

You huffed onto the couch, head in hands after for doctor’s appointment. T’Challa had some of the finest doctor’s in the world and he insisted that you have regular appointments about your eye. They did wonders so it no longer looked as disgusting however, you were never going to get back your full sight. You probably had about 40% vision in your eye. However, due to their fantastic surgical work, you no longer felt the need for the eyepatch, which seemed to be the only positive outcome of anything in the past month.

You groaned once more before leaning forward and grabbing a book called “Changing the Way the Brain Thinks” in an attempt to find something useful. Wanda heard your frustration and joined you on the couch.

“Are you okay?” She asked. You looked up and she could see the dark circles under your eyes. You smiled solemnly before placing the useless book back on the coffee table.

“I’m fine, not any worse than usual.” You said. She nodded, placing a hand on your knee.

“We’ll find something, I promise.” You nodded at her words, opening your mouth to speak before being interrupted by Clint’s voice. He walked in from the kitchen, a bowl of food in his hands as he spoke to Wanda.

“Hey kiddo, how was your date last night?” he asked her. Your eyes widen as you turned to her, gaping.

“Date?! Wanda since when did you have a date? Who was he?” You burst. Clint laughed at your outburst, sitting down across from you. She laughed too before answering.

“He asked me the other day, one of T’Challa advisors. But you were so busy I didn’t want to take up any of your time.”

“oh my god, Wanda, I’m so sorry, from now on you have my full attention.” You said sitting back and letting her speak.

“Sooo,” Clint spoke up wiggling his eyebrows, “how did it go?”

Keep reading

First Sentence Writing Prompts 12

More pick me ups!

An anon asked me to do all the prompts on this list. So here we go! 

Feel free to suggest more prompts if you wish. I’m struggling to write for my other fics and Simsrena and I find in order to get my muse back I need to keep writing. So it’s a win win for everyone :)

12. You need to stop

I feel like this prompt could have been dark considering that Bernie has actually said these words in Holby but I’m me and I need cheering up right now. So….

Title: Distraction

“You need to stop,” Bernie said quietly as she stepped into their office and closed the door behind her.

Serena looked up with a frown as she watched Bernie move around the room and close all the blinds. “Stop what?”

Bernie wiped a hand over her mouth and sat down on the chair by the door. Her knee bobbed nervously and her eyes were focused on a spot on the floor. Serena knew she was avoiding eye contact.

“Bernie?” Serena grew concerned. “Are you alright?”

Bernie’s eyes slowly met hers. “You don’t even know you’re doing it do you?”

Serena was baffled but amused. “Doing what?”

Bernie let out a tiny groan and before Serena could ask anything else, the blonde was straddling her hips and kissing her hungrily. Bernie’s fingers tugged on Serena’s hair as her tongue explored her mouth.

Serena’s hands slipped under Bernie’s scrubs and she clawed at the warm flesh underneath. Bernie growled into the kiss and ground her hips against her, desperately looking for some kind of relief.

Serena gasped. “Bernie…”

The speed that Bernie backed away would have been impressive had Serena not been mourning the loss of warmth Bernie had given off. She watched the blonde with an amused smile. Bernie moved toward the filing cabinets and leaned a hand against it, her head bowing slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

“Not that I’m against having the sense snogged out of me in my office,” Serena smirked when Bernie glanced up at her through her fringe with narrowed eyes. “But what was that?”

Bernie’s head bowed again and she ran her free hand through her hair. “You watch me,” she said with a deep sigh. “I can always feel your eyes on me when I’m working. Following me all the time. It… it’s a distraction… it drives me crazy…”

Serena smiled. “Obviously in a good way,” she mumbled taking in Bernie’s flushed cheeks.

Bernie glared at her. “Not when I can’t concentrate because all I can think about is how wet I am.”

That wiped the smile off Serena face in an instant and Bernie made a little satisfied hum in the back of her throat.

Serena stared at her with wide eyes as she felt her own desire throb between her legs. “Would you…” she cleared the lump in her throat. “I think… I might have left my stethoscope in the on call room…” she stood up and made her way to the door, aware of Bernie’s confused eyes on her. Just before she opened the door, she turned back to look at her. Her breath hitched at the thought of what she was going to propose. “Would you care to help me look?”

Bernie’s eyes darkened. She looked as though she was going to say something but instead she simply nodded and followed Serena out of their office. As they walked, their hands brushed together, only just touching but the tension that buzzed between them was overwhelming. Serena glanced to her side to see Bernie staring straight ahead.

“Just for future reference, would you still prefer me to stop watching you?” Serena asked even though she knew what the response would be.

Bernie blushed, her lips curling into a secret smile. “Oh shut up, Campbell.”

What I wouldn’t give to see little moments like this on the show!


you both waited for your tests to be handed back. Chad’s knee was bobbing anxiously but you knew how hard he worked to live up to your challenge. you weren’t surprised when his test was handed back, a giant ‘A’ on the top corner.

Chad made a face at you, like ‘see? i did it.’ you grinned, showing thumbs up. after class Chad stopped you in the halls, “i knew you could do it.” you smiled at him.

“so this was all on purpose? you challenged me because you knew i could do it?” he asked.

“of course. thats what friends are for.”

Chad looked at you for a few seconds, then stated abruptly, “go out with me?” when he saw the confusion in your face, he started stammering, “you make me want to be a better person, you make me want to better myself and you’re always there for me so… date?”

gif credit (x) original gifset (x)

thank you so much to this gif maker for giving me permission to use their gifs! needed to give Chad some love and this gif maker has such beautiful gifs <3 <3 <3