brown clutches


pairing: Jungkook | reader I Yooongi
genre: angst (Soulmate!au meets Hanahaki!au)
word count: 3.327
warnings: none
author’s note: Hellooo, Toombler! This is the first instaallment of the Saudade series (Whoot Whoot) I’m warning you guys now, i have no plot, idk where i’m going with this. Let me know if you guys want another part to this! xxx

Series: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3


Saudade;                                                                                                           ↪ The feeling of intense longing for a person or place you love but is now lost

The sky was a painting tonight.

You marveled at the beautiful twilight hues. Shades of violet bled into the indigo sky, creating bridges of colours you could only describe with the paintbrush in your hand, and the canvas in front of you. You mixed and created shades of pink, purple and blue you could not name. You paid no attention to that, art did not need a language; it was the expression of what words fail to communicate.

Art is an entity of its own.

Like you.

Many described you as wild – you were as wild as the winds that blew the curled red leaf in the air.

You watched the sun in front of you dip below the horizon like a candle being extinguished. You dipped your own brush into the paint and brushed it across the canvas, now adding the finishing strokes of cerise and amber.

You gave your painting a final look before setting down your paintbrush.

You huffed. In front of you was no match to what you saw a few minutes ago. You could never paint the splashes of colours you formed in the sky. The true and raw beauty of the sunset could never be captured. That is by you – a self-proclaimed artist.

It was rumoured that everyone has a different sky that is shared with their soulmate – except all celestial objects stay in the same position for everybody, so weather is not affected. Everyone has the ability to draw on the sky, making splash of colours or little notes for only them and their soulmate to see.

You shivered from the chilly winds as they ran across your skin. It was exhilarating as it was terrifying. You were currently situated at the rooftop of your art institution. Every evening, you came here and tried to create a somewhat decent painting of the evening sky. And every evening, you failed.

You mastered the skill of painting fruit baskets and fields of flowers. You could recreate the face of a person you had met for the first time with deadly precision. So why could you not paint something as simple as the sunset? Children could paint it. Hell, Kindergarteners could finger-paint the sunset, yet you couldn’t. Why?

Walking to the edge, you gripped the thin metal railing. It always amazed you at how fast the night changes. Now, as you looked at the early night sky, all traces of the colours had bled into one – a magnificent shade of midnight blue. The cold winds of nightfall pierced the thin layer of your shirt. You wrapped your hands around your body as you attempted to warm yourself. In vain, you rubbed your hands up and down each other until you felt a hint of warmth spread across your body.

The night held so many mysteries.

You turned around to wipe off the wet paint on your palette and you put it, along with your brush, into your bag. Slinging the back on your shoulder, you picked up your easel and walked to the room across from you. The room was small and mainly used for storage. Sometimes, you would find couples inside it. Those encounters never ended well.

You made a silent prayer in your head as you turned the brass door knob to the room. To your surprise, the light was already on. You could’ve sworn that you turned them off when you came to get the equipment. Hesitantly stepping inside, you put down the easel at the back of the room.

Whoosh, the door closed. The sound made you jump and you heard a deep chuckle come from beside you.

You let out a shriek as you made eye contact with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you shoved the boy in front of you, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“Oh Y/N! Y-you s-should’ve seen y-your face,” Jungkook tried to imitate your reaction before he doubled over with laughter once again. “Oh man, y-you looked s-so terrified,” he spluttered.

You felt a smile of your own forming before you crossed your arms together and bit your lip. You tried your best to stay mad at him. You never could, but you tried. Every time.

Jungkook’s  amber orbs blazed with the golden light of a summer evening. His eyes reminded you of a sunset – no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t manage to look away.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Jungkook waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped out of your trance and shifted your gaze from his face to the ground.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Did I go too far? Do you want to hit me? You can hit me, just don’t hit my face. It’s the only thing I have going for me,” he offered you a comforting smile.

His smile alone was enough to make you feel better.

You shook your head and opened your mouth to speak, “Jungkook, just… don’t scare me like that ever again.”

He nodded and moved across the room. You thought he was going to leave until he walked back to you with a brown bag in his hands. Instantly, the smell of Tteokbokki hit your nostrils and you felt your mouth water a little. You hadn’t eaten since lunch. You reached out to take the bag when it was pulled away from your grasp.

Nuh uh,”Jungkook waggled his finger at you, “first, you have to show me your painting. You never show me your paintings of the sunset.”

“Um, no. There’s a reason why and that’s because they’re all trash. Absolute trash.”

“You’re being way too critical of yourself. Your paintings are never short of amazing.”

“But you haven’t seen these ones, that’s why you’re saying this.”

“Then show me,” Jungkook said.

You took a hold of both of his hands and looked up at him pleadingly

“Jungkook… please don’t make me.”

He huffed and looked away. You wondered what he was thinking about.

You heard the rustle of the paper bag as he handed it to you. “Thank you, kookie. I owe you one,” you said as you took a bite of the soft rice cake.

“Don’t thank me, I know you hadn’t had dinner so I brought you some food. It’s what friends are for,” he shrugged his shoulders as he reached for a rice cake.

You momentarily stopped chewing. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop in disappointment every time you heard that word.


The two of you walked out of the room and sat on the cold, concrete floor.

The night sky was a sharp contrast to the once melodic array of warm colours – it was now black as ink, the only light illuminating from the stars.

“Hey, Jungkook.“


“Remember the Twinkie on the bus? The one I gave you in second grade?”

“The one you found on the floor and gave me without telling me? Nice.”

You grinned and gave him a rice cake. “It never really fell on the floor. I made that part up.”

You couldn’t see his face but you could tell that he was smiling.

“Hey, Y/N”


“I-I think that I’m going to tell Hyojin that I love her,” he had mentioned out of the blue.

Your chest tightened, the same way it did when Jungkook first told you about his crush on your sister. You felt a tingling, itchy feeling clawing up your throat and stopping midway. It felt like a hairball that had been stuck, but you managed to swallow it down with some water. You sat still, vision blurring, and in that moment, you heard your heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.

“Y/N, are you okay? You look like you’re –“

“I’m okay, Jungkook. I just choked a little on the rice cake when I tried to talk at the same time,” you lied, clutching the brown paper bag resting in your lap.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow but did not question further. “Well, what do you think I should do?”

“You should do what you feel is right.”

You couldn’t make out Jungkook’s face. You only saw the highlighted parts of his face as the moonlight shone down upon him.

“What do you think is right?”

“It doesn’t matt—“

What do you think is right?”

You sighed, “you really love her, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.“

“Maybe”, you said gently, “you’re trying too hard to hear it. Don’t say it yet.”

Jungkook’s face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots. You saw his body go rigid, his mouth hung with lips slightly parted and his eyes were slightly widened at your statement. Slowly, the shock wore off of his face and was replaced with a gaze that felt like an act of violence – a glare to stop your heart. You heard him as he scoffed, “…unbelievable.”

You felt your temper rise at Jungkook’s audacity to scoff at you, “what? You asked for my opinion and so I gave you my opinion. Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Jungkook laughed heartlessly, looking down at you as if you were a complete stranger. “I’m going to tell her,” he said with an air of finality and a tinge of annoyance directed towards you.

Instead of lowering your head you lifted it, a stony glare carved into your dark eyes. Anger blurred your sight but you tightened your jaw and glared at him, “and what am I supposed to do? Sit by while you date other girls and fall in love with someone else and get married?” Your voice tightened, “And meanwhile, I’ll die a little bit more every day, watching.”

Jungkook turned, but too slowly to be normal. When he spook his voice trailed slowly, like his words were unwilling to take flight. There was a sadness in his eyes, the brown too glossy, “Y/N, p-please, stop. Y-you’re just…jealous, just admit it,” you heard the slight hesitance in his words. “You know what, I’ll help you find someo—”

“Yes! I’ll admit, I am jealous. I’m jealous of every minute you spend with her, of every concerned expression you send her way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip her to pieces and purge her from your mind and from your heart. But I can’t.” before you could register what was happening, your brain made a decision of its own.

“Y/N, please don’t—“

Words flew from your mouth that you never thought you’d even think, let alone say out loud. You knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they’d hit their mark. In that instant, your relationship shattered into glassy shards. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“I love you,” you blurted out. “I-I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”

Jungkook shot up, his tall stature looming over your own. You stood up beside him, with your arms crossed and your eyes locked on him. It takes him a while to realize that you weren’t joking. You got up on your feet, standing a few inches away from him. "J-Jungkook?” you placed your hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him. Jungkook shoved your hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” Just a few words, but they brought tears to your eyes. You never thought this was how it would feel to have your heart broken.

“Jungkook, please. Don’t do this.” You pleaded him as you covered your face with your hands and wiping away your tears.

Oh no! I’m not doing anything here. I told you not to say it and yet you still said it.” Jungkook was now shouting at you.

“I’m sorry,” you sounded like you were choking on your tears. You never could keep your emotions under control; you couldn’t fight away the tears. You stepped forward, trying to reach out to him. Jungkook put his hands in front of him, halting you from taking another step.

“I said don’t touch me,” Jungkook’s voice cracked. Under the moonlight, you could see that his cheeks reflected your own tear-stained ones.

You didn’t try to get closer to him again. You sat down and tucked your knees to your chest, putting your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your hands, then started to breathe slowly.

Silence gnawed at your insides. It hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. You needed to fill the void with sounds, words, anything. The silence was poisonous in its nothingness, cruelly underscoring how vapid your conversation had become – it clung to you two like a poisonous cloud that at any moment could choke the life from them.

You couldn’t stand the deafening silence anymore. “Jungkook,” you whispered, not daring to look at the face in front of you. “I-I love you and I can’t stop loving you. You overtake my affections and leave my heart in shattered disarray of pieces. Every single time you steal a part of me, you make it impossible for me to put myself together. I know you can never love me and yet I always delude myself in the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, you’ll learn to love me back. Why is that? Perhaps I hope that you return what you’ve stolen. You never do. You smile, and it’s intoxicating. Your fingers brush through my hair, and it’s addicting. You laugh, and it’s contagious. You and your flirtatious self. But I know, and you know that you could never — would never return the love I shared with you.”

“You love Hyojin,“ you continued for him. "I know. Y-you’re in love with…her,” the bitter taste of those words lingered on your tongue.

Your eyes met his warm brown ones. “Yes,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling. “It’s her. It’s always been her.”

Jungkook’s words fell out of his mouth like vapour but landed in your guts as shrapnel. You felt your insides tear, and the blood drain from your face. You would have laughed but he was dead serious. His eyes were cold like you’d never seen and his features immobile. He handed back the painting you gave him just yesterday and you let it fall as soon as its weight had hit your palm. There was the mute sound of paper on cement but neither of you moved to pick it up. You were trying to understand the words he told you but you couldn’t. Then he turned to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets. Before you knew what you were doing you were standing in his way and locked eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shook his head. You could see your pain mirrored in his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry that I love you, Jungkook,” you said through your tears.

“Y/N, please. Let me go.”

“I can’t – not like this. Let’s talk about this. Please.”

There isn’t anything to talk about.”

Jungkook’s eyes were trained on some invisible specter behind you. His heavy eyelids took a fraction too slow to blink, his irises too stationary. It was as if his brain was suffering a massive short circuit and was struggling to compute. You moved into his line of sight, touching his cheek with the side of your thumb, your lips forming a pensive grin. Jungkook’s head tilted upward to your face, his eyes sliding into focus. Your voice came out in a breathy whisper, “can I just have one kiss?”

Jungkook made no motion to move and so, you leaned in. all of your senses were screaming at you to pull back, to step away from Jungkook – your sister’s boyfriend. And yet, you couldn’t. You knew he didn’t love him back, but you couldn’t resist. You leaned in a little closer, your foreheads touching. Dear god, you couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through you. His very smell was flooding his senses now.

“No!” he seemed to snap out from whatever trance he was previously in. “No, I thought you were my friend,” Jungkook yelled. He pulled himself away from you as if he touched a hot coal. Jungkook turned around and made a mad dash towards the exit.

“Wait! Jungkook,” you called after him. “Please,” you closed your eyes, pleading.

He didn’t.


etsyfindoftheday 1 | 5.24.17

amazing leather goods by hustleandhide

urrrghhhhhhhh i love leather … as a former vegetarian i feel a little bad sometimes the way i’m drawn to buttery cognac-y leather goods like these bad boys from hustleandhide. love the fringe and shape of the clutch, and the specialty design involved in their essential oil folding pouch. ugghhhhh the grain. uggghhhhhhhh the color! i die.

Finding a Dream - A Super Sons Story

Synopsis: Jon has to support and comfort Damian, who’s begun to have recurring dreams of a friend he was supposed to have…a friend that doesn’t exist in this timeline…a boy named Colin Wilkes.

This is my first serious Damijon fic, so I hope you guys enjoy :D

“Damian, slow down!”

“Ironic, considering you’re the one with super speed. I’m leaving you behind if you don’t keep up!”

Jon sighed in resignation as Damian ran ahead of him. They were at an abandoned warehouse this time, another late night out in Damian’s frenzied search for someone who seemed to never actually be there. Damian leaped atop a stack of container vans, meticulously searching for any clues. Jon trudged behind him, trying his best to pretend he didn’t want to go home. Not that Damian was stopping him, but he was too worried about his friend to even consider leaving.

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Downpour Run-ins [Dan]

Originally posted by everything-dan-and-phil

Word Count: 1316
Warnings: None 

Forgive me, for this is about to be the longest thing I have ever posted.
I’m thinking about turning this into a series, so lemme know if you’d like that! Also, would you like me to keep the character as (Y/N) or should I change it to an OC? Ps: If you get the pun at the end ily

The bell affixed to the door softly chimed as she exited the store, her small hands clutching a brown paper bag tightly to her chest as she briskly walked down the rain-soaked footpath. Her hair whipped her back, the leather shoes on her feet squeaking annoyingly as she dodged other shoppers who were also trying to find shelter from the downpour. The black trench coat she was wearing was beginning to soak right through to her skin with the cold rain, making her shiver.

‘Typical London,’ she muttered under her breath with a huff, a small cloud of air escaping her lips due to the icy cold temperature.

Out of all the days she could’ve forgotten her umbrella at home, today just had to be the day. She was in such a rush to get to the store early that she bounded down the stairs out of her flat, completely ignoring the fact that the clouds outside had turned an ominous dark grey. Instead, she noticed the beautiful muted reds and oranges of the fallen leaves swirling and fluttering about in the breeze, getting lost in the blur of colours. She was just that type of person; the type who noticed the beauty in almost everything.

Even if it was just a bunch of dead leaves floating in the wind.

The rain began to pour down harder and the drumming on the tin roof of the shelter became increasingly louder. She decided that the coffee store just a few metres away was her best shot to get out of the rain and cold, so she tucked the paper bag firmly under her arm and prepared herself to run.

The icy air whipped against her face as she bolted down the footpath, turning her cheeks a rosy red and chapping her lips slightly. The rain pounded down on her mercilessly, little droplets trickling slowly down her back and face. She squinted in an attempt to try and figure out where she was going, but the misty air made it almost impossible to see anything in front of her.

It was bound to happen in this horrible weather; her impaired vision wasn’t helping either. As she ran down the path, the leather shoes on her feet squeaking as annoyingly as ever, she slammed right into the chest of a stranger. The paper bag went flying out of her small hands, landing in a tiny puddle on the footpath, absorbing the water like a sponge and shriveling up like wrinkly skin.

‘Oh my goodness,’ the voice shouted over the intensity of the downpour. ‘Are you okay?’

She just nodded timidly, scrambling to her feet and inspecting herself for any injuries. Of course she was alright; the man had softened her fall.

‘I’m okay,’ she replied honestly, looking up to see the tall man gazing at her with his brown eyes.

‘Ahh! Your coat is soaked!’ He exclaimed, biting his lip and ruffling his slightly curly fringe with his hand. ‘C'mon, let’s head into the coffee shop to dry off.’ She followed the stranger inside the café, a little bell tinkling as they opened the door. Both were immediately met with a pleasant blast of warm air to the face along with the comforting smell of grinded coffee beans. A smile washed over her face as she stood in line to wait for her favourite beverage; coffee.

She suddenly got the feeling that someone was watching her, and she turned to see the dark-haired stranger sitting at a table with a small smile on his face. She looked ahead shyly, her cheeks turning a slight pink.

Both didn’t utter any words until she joined him in the back of the bustling café, the hum of coffee machines in the background filling their silence. She wrapped her hands around the paper cup in an attempt to warm up her frozen fingers.

‘Crazy weather out there, am I right?’ He questioned with a cheeky smirk set on his lips, taking a sip of his drink soon after. She raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise.

‘The old “isn’t the weather crap” conversation starter,’ she laughed slightly, brushing some of the damp hair out of her face. ‘Nice one, um…’

He smiled at her before holding out his hand across the table, ‘Dan. Nice to meet you…’

‘(Y/N),’ she grinned, shaking his hand firmly and taking a sip of her hot coffee. The two conversed for what seemed like hours, talking about their hobbies and interests. He learned that she was obsessed with anime and they spent quite some time arguing over which ones were the best.

‘I’m telling you, nothing beats Tokyo Ghoul!’ She exclaimed, placing her cup on the table. He just shook his head with a smile and began to rant about his favourite- Haikyuu! She had never laughed harder in her life with this almost-complete stranger and his hilariously awkward jokes; she was in stitches by the time she had drained her cup of coffee.

She stood up from the table, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and ruffling her still-damp hair. He followed her to the door, his empty cup which once held tea still in hand. By now the storm had calmed down, but not enough for her to walk back to her place without being soaked again.

Just as she put her right hand on the cold handle of the door, Dan placed something in her left; it was the paper bag from earlier she had dropped in the puddle outside. Even though the bag itself was wrinkly, its contents were one-hundred percent dry; she was extremely grateful for this. The two exchanged farewells before she ran out into the rain with a huge grin on her face, clutching the bag as tightly as ever.

He watched her rush down the street through the window, noticing how her black trench coat absorbed the rain the way her package did. As she disappeared down a corner, his hands flipped up the hood on his jumper, leaving the store and walking down the street in the opposite direction. Before he had met her, Dan was on his way to the DVD store just down the road to buy an anime that his roommate had wanted to watch; the brown paper bag was an all-too familiar sight to him.

She bounded up her stairs once she had reached her apartment, throwing her sodden boots to the side without a care in the world. All she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with a steaming mug of hot tea and watch the raindrops have a race down the window in the living room.

As she sat down on the leather couch with her hot chamomile, (Y/N) grabbed the paper bag which contained the item she had been searching on the web for almost two weeks. She placed the cup down on the coffee table and started to tear through the bag, pulling out the DVD she had always wanted. Something suddenly slipped through the packaging, fluttering in the air and onto the floor. She furrowed her eyebrows and bent down to pick it up. It was a receipt filled with grocery items; not the one from the store she had been to. Turning it over, she saw a messy note scrawled on the back.

Ah of course, Tokyo Ghoul season 2. Haikyuu! is still better though.

She grinned, shaking her head in amusement at his statement. Her eyes travelled to the bottom of the crumpled note to see a barely legible phone number hastily written down. Her hands immediately reached for her phone which was sitting on the armrest beside her. Oh boy, was he gonna get it.

(Y/N): You can’t HIDE from the truth that Tokyo Ghoul is better than Haikyuu! my friend.

Her phone beeped soon after with a reply, and the pun war had begun.

The Mom Ch. 1

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun

Synopsis: Samchilil

Warnings: All the fluff!!! Seriously fluffy feels ahead…

Author’s Note: Here we go again, dear readers! Off on another adventure with The Nanny. What sort of scenarios are we going to get up to this time? ;)
Remember, feedback is love! <3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.


The morning after the birth of the twins found you feeling like you’d been run over by a bus. Your muscles were sore and weak, you’d barely had any sleep and you swore if anyone tried to feed you yet another bowl of Miyeokguk you were going to throw it at them.

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Love, Unconditionally(A Richonne letter(A/U)

       Michonne looked in the mirror and ran her hands over her head. All of her locs were gone. She cut them off. Her skin looked ashen and her eyes had a sad look to them. She frowned. The chemo was taking it’s toll on her. She tried to stay upbeat. She didn’t want to bring the kids down. She didn’t want to bring Rick down.

        She took her rag and stuck it under the faucet. The warm water rushed over her hands and the square cloth she held. She wrung it out and put the rag on her face. It was something so little, washing your face in the morning, but Michonne appreciated it. It was like you were reminding yourself you were awake. That life was happening right now. She always noticed the small, the mundane. She turned the water off and hung her rag up. She left the bathroom and laid back down in her bed. She was always so tired now. She hated the light and kept her curtains closed all day.

      Thank god for her stepson, Carl, who was now 20. He took a semester off from his junior year in college to help with the kids. He dropped everything to be there for Michonne. You’ve always been there for me, so I’m gonna be here for you. Carl told her with tears in his eyes.The news had devastated him.

        Judith was now six. She lived with Rick and Michonne during the school year and spent the summers with her mother, Lori. Carl and Judith were Lori’s children. Her and Rick were still good friends. They just couldn’t be married to one another. They made divorce look easy, though, because they loved their kid’s. Lori’s job required a lot of travel, so Judith stayed with them the majority of the time.

    Which Judith loved because she got to play with her little brother, Marcus. I like having a little brother. I get to boss him around like Carl bosses me. Michonne laughed at the memory of her scrunched up little face saying that. Judith didn’t like being bossed around.

  Marcus didn’t really give Judith much trouble. He was only a year old. Her baby boy had the cutest eyes. They were hazel, almost like an amber stone color. He had curly hair like his dad and even acted like him. He would sit in Rick’s lap, and lean his head in the same direction as his dad as they watched cartoons. They even slept the same way. On their backs with their mouths slightly parted. They were two peas in a pod.

    She rolled over and heard something. Like a piece of paper being crumpled. She felt under her until she discovered the piece of paper. It was a letter. She reached over and turned her lamp on, sitting up to read it.


    I’ve often been told by many that I never was a good speaker. That I really could never put my words together, but I’m not that way with you. I could write you forever. I could talk to you forever.

    Remember when we took Carl and Judith to D.C for the summer. We lost our luggage, you lost your wallet. It was so hot outside. I wanted to be mad. I really was, but you told me we could still have fun. And we did. Carl really enjoyed the museums, and Judith had so much fun just being out of the house.

    Remember when we met. It wasn’t on the best of terms. I hit your car and you were late for work. My truck wasn’t that bad after the collision, so I offered to drive you there. You were mad the whole ride, but you stole my heart. Even with your crossed arms and pouty face.

     Now. Now we have another obstacle ahead of us. When we went to the appointment a while ago and they said they found cancer in your breasts, I broke down on the inside. You’re so young. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. When they said you needed to think about removal, and you cried because it was all so overwhelming, I cried with you. It is overwhelming. The chemo, the medicine, the aches and pains. But we’re fighting through this, Michonne. WE are fighting through this.

     The only thing I see when I look at you is Michonne. Michonne is the mother of my children. You are my lover. You are my friend. You are my wife. I love you, no matter what is going on with your body. None of that matters. You matter. You’re my warrior and you are strong and we got this. The love I have for you is never going to waver. It’s not going to fade.

   I love you so much, Michonne.


   “Mommy Michonne, Mommy Michonne.” She heard Judith yell. Judith burst into her room and paused. She saw Michonne’s tears.

   “Mommy Michonne, are you sad?” Judith said with her big brown eyes, clutching her teddy bear. She had her blonde hair in a ponytail. She looked adorable in the little pink outfit she had on.

   Michonne smiled. “No, Judy. These are happy tears.” Judith walked up to her and gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re happy. I like happy tears.”  She said hugging her.

   Michonne started chuckling. “Awww, Judy. I love happy tears, too.” Rick was amazing. He just knew how she felt. She had been feeling that way. Like he wasn’t attracted to her, but he still cuddled her. He still whispered sweet nothings in her ear every night. He still loved her.

   Just then he walked in with Marcus. “You see mama? You see your mama, Marcus?” Rick said as he crossed the room with him in his arms. Marcus reached for Michonne and gave her a big silly grin. Michonne loved her kids. They just melted her heart. Carl walked into the room about a minute later.

   “There you are. Judith, I thought I told you not to bother Michonne.” He gave Judith a stern look. Michonne told him it was okay. He finally cut that long hair, she noticed. Now he opted to try to grow this beard. These Grimes men and their hair. She thought to herself.

    Everybody ended up sitting on Rick and Michonne’s bed. Rick turned the TV on and rested his back against the headboard. He motioned with his hand for Michonne to come closer. Judith started giving Marcus an A,B,C lesson which he didn’t understand, and Carl laid at the end of the bed and watched them play.

    Rick kissed Michonne on her forehead. "You get my letter?” He asked as they looked at their family.

    “Yeah, I got your letter. Thank You.” She looked up and kissed him on the lips.

       Rick loved her, no matter what.


Midnight Haze

BTS + EXO x reader (+WINNER)

Overall Warnings: angst, SEXUAL THEMES, POSSIBLE NON CONTENT, gore, prostitution, kidnapping, drugging - if you’re uncomfortable with ANY of these themes please avoid reading!

BTS/EXO gang!au

BTS visuals - EXO visuals

word count: 3,221

Being a recently turned 18 year-old, you lived on your own in a dingy apartment after moving out of home which consisted of just you and your 25 year-old abusive older sister after your mother’s undiscovered disappearance, that fell months after your 16th birthday. Your father walked out years before, with no explanation on your behalf, leaving you parent-less for what you’d consider to be most of your life. When you take a turn down a highway you’d never seen before, how will the rest of your life unfold?


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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Some of Newt's creatures get loose at MACUSA and cause hilarious chaos. Everyone is busy trying to help Newt wrangle the creatures when the sound of a deep voice laughing whole heartedly fills the air. Everyone is stunned to see none other that Percival Graves, newly back at work, laughing in pure mirth with some of Newt's creatures wrapped around him vying for his attention. Newt indefinitely likes the way Percival looks when he smiles wants to make Percival smile more often.

Hope you enjoy (:

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I Got You

Summary: Everyone pitches in to prepare for Bucky’s 100th birthday. 

Word: 2956

A/N: i realize how lame the summary is but okay listen, basically y/n is in charge of making sure bucky’s party runs smoothly but things come up during the party planning but nah fam dont worry cause you need a party? y/n got u

Pairing: avengers x reader, bucky x reader (at the end) 

“Listen up Avengers,” you commanded as you made your way around the couch on which all of them minus Bucky were squished together on.

“In less than twenty-four hours it’s gonna be Bucky’s 100th birthday,” you continued, walking to the front of the couch and facing your teammates while clutching the brown clipboard close to your chest.

“And you hear that?” You rhetorically asked, cupping a hand behind your ear as you leaned forward, “that’s the sound of one hundred guests arriving at the compound. Twenty of which will be staying in this room alone!” You practically yelled, even gesturing around the living room to make your point.

“Um,” Clint mumbled as he raised his hand a little.

“What?” You responded, stressing the “t” with an annoyed expression on your face.

“Isn’t- isn’t that like a fire code hazard or something?” Clint postulated. The rest of the Avengers let out quiet snickers as they watched you pinch the bridge of your nose before crouching down to become eye level with Clint.

“Buddy, pal, I am going on no sleep and six coffees. Do you really wanna mess with me right now?” You threatened, trying to keep a straight face as you saw Clint’s scrunch up in fear.

“No ma’am,” he squeaked out.

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Guardian - Part One

Important Note: I recommend reading Burn and then It’s Quiet Uptown before Guardian.

Preview: I’m letting this take the place of a summary. Tags are at the bottom. Contact me to be added. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Death, Sorrow

Word Count: 729

It was a warm spring afternoon in the park nestled in uptown New York. The sound of birds singing mingled with the sound of children squealing with joy as their swings sliced through the air, making them feel weightless and alive.

A man in a dark suit walked briskly along the main path that cut through the park clutching a brown paper lunch bag. He paid no mind to the birds or the children as he moved toward his destination. He was also unaware of the man following him.

The Winter Soldier was not someone that one would want following them. His missions were completed with flawless efficiency and precision. He was an assassin with no equal, but being the best never crossed his mind. His mind was devoid of anything other than an objective, which was currently the man in the dark suit.

With nearly silent footsteps, the Winter Soldier moved off the path and into a small forested area. It gave him a perfect view of a small group of benches situated just inside a garden area. His objective was currently sitting on one of the benches and checking the contents of his bag.

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Childhood Memories

   A/N: Well, it’s been a while since I’ve written Riverdale. Here it is! I was having some major Jughead feels the other day and this was the result. Let me know what you think. ~Levi’s Lover 

    Age seven

    A pale hand cups the small silver coins, handing them to the man behind the register. A small girl sits near, watching as she flips the pages of her book, others sprawled across the white table. “I’m sorry son, this just isn’t enough.” Her father’s booming voice falls upon the boy, simply receiving a meek nod in return. His small hand reaches for the coins, gripping them once in his possession. His dark bangs fall over his eyes, hiding the dark circles that reside beneath. 

    “Thanks anyways.” He mumbles. The older male nods, gesturing for him to move out of the way. He does as told, worn out sneakers scraping against the floor. The thin flannel he wore displayed small patches, indicating a previous hole that has now been closed up. His gray jeans stuck to his thin legs, small holes allowing a view of his scraped knees. Coming to a stop before the child, he glares at her curious stare. “What do you want?” There was no hiding her surprise, her wide eyes and open mouth said it all. “What are you staring at?” His harsh question snapped the girl out of her daze, a small scowl set on his lips.

    “Why are your clothes so torn?” This time, it was his turn to reveal his surprise. “What?”

    “My mom doesn’t let me wear dirty clothes. Does your mom let you?” Judging by the red tinting his ears, the boy was becoming angry. “What’s it matter to you?” The girl shrugs, oblivious to the boy’s annoyance. “You’ll start to smell icky.” Her nose scrunches, showing her distaste. 

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Robcina Week 2017 - New Parenthood

Title: A Pleasant Surprise 

Description: Morgan really wants to meet her mom. What right does Robin have but to introduce the two. 

Words: 733 

Authors Note: Changed Morgan’s age a bit to better suit her personality.

“So… when can I see her?”

Robin halted the movement of his quill, feeling the blood drain from his already pale face. The urge to ignore the question was quite immense however guilt quickly overcame all previous emotions.

What right did he even have?

When receiving silence for a response, a young girl with a head of beautiful blue hair grumbled in annoyance.

“Daaaaad,” Morgan drawled out, crossing her arms with agitation. Puffing out her cheeks as would a child, the thirteen year old looked on as Robin leaned back into his chair.

‘No time like the present, I suppose.’

As if losing a valuable argument, Robin slowly rose to his feet and gave a slight incline of his head. “Alright, alright. Hood on first then we can go.”

Listening to instructions, Morgan flipped her long coat’s cowl over her cobalt colored hair and proceeded to follow her father out of the moderate sized tent.

The camp was lively with local Shepherds treading about. Giving his usual greeting to each passerby, both tacticians continued on towards their designation. A few moments later, Robin gave his daughter a quick motion to stay put.

Lucina was practicing her sword technique near the outskirts of the campground. Not noticing the two newcomers, the princess continued on with her rigorous practice.

Mouth near agap, Morgan stood transfixed watching her mother. She had little knowledge of the way of the sword but from what was occurring before her eyes, this was something on a whole different level.

“Wooow,” the young girl spoke in awe, gaze never leaving Lucina’s form. Smiling at his daughter’s excitement, Robin was moments away from calling out to the princess before a blur of black sped past him.

A second was all it took before realization on what was to occur hit Robin. “Wait! Morgan stop!”

At the sound of a voice, Lucina halted her actions before spinning on the heel of her boot. An impact, albeit light, collided into her stomach, causing the future heir to lose her balance and topple to the grassy turf.  

“Sorry! I’m sorry but that was so cool!” A feminine voice rang out as Lucina slowly opened her eyes. The color blue, a shade much like her own locks, occupied her immediate attention as the stranger continued to prattle on. “You’re really awesome and I can’t believe you’re my mo-”

“Morgan!” Footsteps interrupted the duo as Robin fled to the scene. Having witnessed the previous events unfold, the strategist felt his body break out in cold sweat as he struggled to maintain his composure. ‘Okay, best to break the news easily…’

With a slight narrowing of her brown orbs, Morgan clutched onto Lucina’s forearm as the older woman propped herself into a sitting position. “Aww, but Dad! I’ve already waited one whole day from meeting Mom, it’s not fair!”


“My apologies… but what did you just say?” Lucina questioned as the three occupants froze statue-still.

Stifling a tired sigh, Robin scratched the back of his head before making eye contact with Lucina. “Sorry… I um, well…” Stuttering over his own words, Robin fought to find the correct words as his companion blinked with confusion.

Fed up with her parents display of conversation, Morgan leaned towards her mother until they were face-to-face.

“My name’s Morgan. I’m thirteen years old and my birthday is on May fifth. I really don’t like vegetables but if you tell me to, I’ll eat it. I also know how to use magic and I want to learn the sword but I remember my dad saying it was too dangerous which doesn’t make sense because using a tome is also bad and-”

The child continued to chatter on, oblivious of the shock that became apparent on Lucina’s face.

“Uh, uh… wait what!?”

Fed up with how she was getting nowhere, Morgan sprung forward and wrapped her thin arms around Lucina’s waist. Happiness overcame the petite child’s emotion as she buried her face into the older teenagers midsection.   

“I’m so glad to meet you, Mom!” Morgan all but shouted into the silk cloth.

Robin held still as he watched the family interaction unfold before him. Noticing Lucina slowly raise her arm with slight shakiness, she timidly patted the top of Morgan’s head in a gentle manner.

After a minute of hesitation, Lucina finally voiced her opinion with a somewhat delicate smile. “It's… very nice to meet you too.”

Keep Away Part 4?

Here’s Part1/2 and Part3

Once they arrived back at the Tower Friday released him on the Iron Man disassembly platform. “Thanks Fri.”

“Anything thing for you boss.” Tony grinned at his baby girl’s success. Fury was going to be pissed but honestly the genius couldn’t give two shits.

5 minutes later he was in the kitchen attempting to put something together to eat when a strong smell of Chinese food came from his far right. Turning around he saw Bruce standing in his lab coat with a brown paper bag clutched in his arms. “Come willingly and I’ll feed you.”

“Oh Brucie I’d do anything for you…” Bruce just grinned at him and gestured him closer. “By any chance did you happen to order me some lo mien?”
“Of course.”
“I always knew you were my favorite.”

So for the next two hours Bruce was able to get Tony’s help on an experiment before he was stolen right from under his nose.

He wanted to blame Rhodes for being a sneaky fucker but he always did get a little tunnel vision when it came to his experiments.

It went a little like this….
Bruce was looking over some data points while Tony jotted down a few equations on a board across the room.
The billionaires phone buzzed, “Rhodey said he’s got a surprise for me but I only get it if I come now. You good if I leave?”
Bruce grunts, Tony leaves.

With Rhodey, “Damn Tones, what did you get yourself into this time?”
“I have no idea and it wasn’t even my fault!”
Tony was currently checking himself out in his bedroom mirror. Rhodey found him a cool new Iron Man t-shirt that he knew Tony would love. Which the genius did.
“Poor baby, should I take you to get coffee?”
“Um hell yes. What kind of question is that? Let’s go.”

They were walking down the street when the crowd around them started getting a little more rowdier than they already were.

“Man of Iron! I have come to claim you as my prize!” Swooping down Thor looped an arm around Tony before taking off.

“DAMNIT THOR!” Tony and Rhodey shouted at once.

It took Tony a few seconds of clinging to the ridiculous Demi-god before he had a realization. “I didn’t get my coffee!!”

Worst Fear Part 1 - Peter Parker

Summary- Wanda and Peter get into a fight, so she shows him his worst fear to shut him up, surprisingly finding out Peter has a massive crush on you.

Part 2  Part 3

Send in Requests

Originally posted by wearemarvel

“No, you totally cheated!”

Peter yelled at the brunette who was slowly walking away.

“Peter,” She said turning around “Don’t blame me, you lost because you’re rubbish at monopoly.”

The teenager ran in front of Wanda, stopping her in her tracks and forcing her to look at him. But you were the banker, you could of easily given yourself more money so you won.”

Wanda didn’t reply at first, instead rolled her eyes at the boy. “You’re such a sore loser, Parker.”

She was starting to get tired of the pointless argument, it was clear in her voice and face that were both deadpan.

Just as Peter was about to open his mouth, Wanda raised her left hand and waved it in front of his face, turning his expression into a dazed one.

Peter was no longer looking at Wanda’s blue eyes, instead he found himself in a badly lit concrete room.

There was no windows and no doors, as far as he could see anyway.

He slowly turned on his heels, examine the room, his body freezing immediately as he noticed a body in the middle of the room. Peter approached the body cautiously at first, but as soon as he recognised your hair, he ran and crouched down next to you.

You were still breathing, ‘thank God’, he thought feeling his heart rate slow down a bit. “Wake up, c'mon wake up.”

He shook your body gently, feeling your body respond slightly. When you finally moved your head, Peter was shocked. Your left eye was a horrible bruised colour, the lip was busted and there were several scratches around your face. But you would always look beautiful to him.

“I knew you would come.” Your voice cracked, only slightly opening your eyes to look at him, before shutting them again. The pain making it almost impossible to move.

“But you’re too late.”

Peter felt his face drain of colour, his eyes watering as you took your last breath. Unlike before, he shook your body more violently, hoping you would just be playing a trick on him.

“No, you’re not going. I love you too much.”

His brown eyes shut, clutching your body, only when he opened his eyes did he find himself back in the Avengers complex.

Wanda smirked at the boy, her eyes sparkling with humour.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Peter ordered, the last thing he wanted to happen was for you to find out about his little crush on you.

But Wanda ran off anyway, in the direction on Tony’s lab, shouting at the top of her voice “Peter has a crush!”

The Right Armour

A/N: ReaderxSherlock One-shot :D (For those who submitted requests, I promise I’ll try working on them tomorrow. I haven’t written anything in a while. Will be needing a little time to get back into the swing of things. :) Thanks for understanding. Apologies for the delay.)

Warning/s: Implied smut.

Word Count: 600+

You woke up to the sound of the bedroom door closing.

“Hmm?” You whimpered as you opened your eyes. You saw Sherlock half-naked and fresh from the shower. A towel hung at his hips as he ruffled his hair with a smaller one. You ogled him like a perv for a few more moments. With a sight like that, who could blame you?

“You’re up early.” You said as you slowly sat up.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Sherlock walked to you, giving you a kiss on the mouth. His moist lips made the kiss sweeter, although in all honesty it tasted minty. “Lestrade just sent me a case. Too interesting to pass up.” He whispered into the kiss.

“Oh. I was thinking maybe we could have a part two of last night’s show?” You bit your lip.

“We will. Later.” He grinned. “But for now, why don’t you help me find the right armour.” He said, removing the towel and letting it pool at his feet. Your expectant eyes were disappointed upon seeing that he already had his pants on. You didn’t get a good look last night, it was too dark.

“Did you really think I would let you see all of me?” He smirked. “I’ll leave some to your imagination.” He winked. Sherlock grabbed a pair of trousers and started putting on a police uniform.

“What do you think?” He turned to you.

“Mmm. No.” You shook your head.

“Okay…” He took of the police hat and started undressing in front of you. You smirked to yourself. It was like Sherlock was giving you a Magic Mike moment. You approved of the turn of events.

“How about this?” Sherlock put on a fireman’s uniform.

“No. No.” You shook your head for the second time, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“Yeah, I don’t think so either.” He said, giving himself a once over at the mirror. He took off the striped coat, allowing you to see the soft definitions of his muscles flex as he moved. He bent forward as he took his trousers off. The garter of his pants hugged his firm round arse quite justly. You let out a hush groan only you can hear.

“Well?” Sherlock stood wearing a suit but he tweaked it a bit. He wore a pair of glasses, carried a brown leather satchel, and clutched a decent stack of books and papers.

“You look like a history professor.”

“That’s what I was going for.” Sherlock replied. You scrunched your nose, pretending to not like it. “No?” He mimicked your expression.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Fine…” He turned around, settling his props. Sherlock started the glorious process of removing his clothes once more. You unconsciously bit your lip and tilted your head to get a better view.

“Hey…” Sherlock said suspiciously. He caught you through your reflection on the mirror. “Wait a second…” He turned around after successfully removing all his upper body garments. You stood straight to attention. “You just want me to take my clothes off again…” He deduced you quite correctly.

“What? Of course not!” You denied his accusation.

“Oh, don’t lie to me, Y/N. I can see right through you.” Sherlock laughed.

“Okay, fine. So what if I was?“ You raised your eyebrow.

“You cheeky…” He walked over to where you were sitting. Forcing both of his knees in between yours, Sherlock’s lap touched your inner thighs. His half-naked body now stood dangerously close to you. His slightly cool skin clashed with the warmth of yours. You looked up to see him smirking devilishly down at you. The glasses on his eyes instilled the professor vibe.

Reaching for his riding crop, he grumbled, “Well, now. I guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson.” Audibly swatting it a few times on his palm.

Newt Scamander x Reader - Grandfather Always Said...

Title: Grandfather Always Said…

Pairing: Next Scamander x Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 7339 (holy cow…)

Warnings: None

Another long one I’m afraid.

Honestly guys. Most of these just come to me when I’m working. I’m finally getting around to writing them and such. Also, this kinda feels a bit more like Pickett x Reader friendship X3

@the-art-of-arguing @smalldogmemes @t-adash-i

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alienkneesocks  asked:

Sam + "YOUTHS!"

“YOUTHS!” Sam hollers from where he stands in front of the swing set, shaking his fist in the air like an irate old man; a group of other students snickers and races off the courtyard, the leader clutching a brown bag with a messy “SAM’S LUNCH – DON’T TOUCH” scribbled on it in black sharpie. Sam stamps his foot, shouting after the escaping group of kids, “I should call the police on you!”

“Don’t say ‘youths’, Sam, especially when they’re the same age as you,” Max snickers from where he sits, swinging idly on one of the swings, fuzzy hands clasped around the metal chains that hold him up; Sam simply huffs in response, crossing his arms across his chest as he glares across the courtyard.

“That had my favorite kind of sandwich in it,” Sam sulks, hauling himself onto the swing seat next to Max, dragging his foot through the soft earth below, “They can’t get away with bullying us and taking our lunches away when it’s not even school time! It’s summer! We’re supposed to be free of bullies.”

Max shrugs, “Well, my naïve friend, that’s the cold truth to this cruel, cruel world. Bullies never stop working ‘round the clock.”

“And when they grow up, they become low life criminals and steal other stuff, like diamonds and stuff.” Sam pitches in, picking up where Max leaves off, and Max nods solemnly – or as solemnly as he can appear with that giant, crooked-tooth grin of his.

“I wish there was some way to stop them.” Sam muses wistfully, to which Max suggests, “There’s cops! And detectives, and other stuff like cops. I don’t know the exact branches of, uh, copness, but I do know they get to beat up mean people, which sounds super fun!” Max all but squeals with dark delight at that last part, vividly imaging how wonderful it’d be to pummel perps for a living.

Sam’s eyes widen as a realization dawns on him, shining on him like the bright rays of the summer sun beating down on him currently; he hops off his swing seat and scampers over to Max, silently thanking Max for having stopped his vigorous swinging the minute the bullies walked onto the playground. Sam’s hands come to grip Max by his slender shoulders, “Max!”

“You’ve got the breath of a dog, Sam. What’s up?”

Sam only beams like he won the lottery – which would be awesome at such a young age, given how 100 dollars already seems like a lifetime supply to someone Sam’s age, “I know what I want to be when I grow up!”

The Devil Wears Feathers

Summery: Nygmobblepot - Devil Wears Prada AU:  Edward Nygma is a bachelor living in a big city, and finds himself with a job at the biggest fashion industry, Iceberg Fashion, owned  by the infamously famous and drop-dead gorgeous fashion magazine editor, Oswald Cobblepot

Rating: PG- 13 (for now)

Authors: @endless-nygmobblepot | @mrgoldsdearie

Note: Here’s is the first chapter of this little idea Ella came up with and I loved it. When she asked me to write it with her, I wasn’t going to say no. Like WTF? This is my first AU for this pairing and first multi-chapter fic as a co-author. I hope those who check it out enjoy. Happy reading!


    Part One: Spellbound  

    Edward wasn’t going to allow this particularly groggy morning to pull him back into his slumber. It was 5 a.m. and he had to prepare for his new job interview at Iceberg Fashion Magazine by 6:30. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he had awoken this early. His body feels like it’s against him.

         He slipped out of the dark rust-colored covers and peeled himself off of the bed, standing on his feet in his (debatably undignified) birthday suit. He staggers to the dresser, rubbing his eyes, and slipped into a clean pair of black boxers, tight black pants, and a green sweater that was already lying on the hardwood floor. It wasn’t like he had any other article of clothing that looked professional and he wasn’t going to seek out anything else that might possibly be shoved into the back of his closet. It didn’t get much better than an old green sweater anyhow.

         He lived in a top floor shabby loft style apartment just outside of the Fashion District in Gotham. He loved his loft for what it was and the view of the city made his $900 rent worth the price each month.

       Upon looking in the full-body-mirror hanging on his closet door, he wasn’t actually ashamed of his appearance, he rather thought he seemed quite charming. Perfect for an assistant job interview.

      He stands in the bathroom, squeezing out the remaining gel that was in his cheap dollar store bottle of hair product, and made sure his hair was slicked back enough where it wouldn’t fall over his eyes. Gazing back at upon his reflection, he wondered if it was truly possible to get this job. To be honest, being the assistant of the biggest fashion magazine editor in Gotham, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, sounds a little overbearing, but Edward thinks he has the confidence to handle the task and he’s going try overcome whatever challenges lie in his wake.

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